-- Clever birdie That sings "sheet sheet" I ponder you and why I cry from your song Wondering what I did wrong.. For you gave no clever songs or hymns Nor wise words that may -Perhaps- Lustrate my fate Of being a failed writer Yes, I tire of this song It smells of faeces "sheet sheet" Is the sound of your call And the smell of your breath Pissed me off, -So- I (yes me birdie) Send you to an early death With my letter opener I used when opening your message -Now- The smell of rotting flesh And whirling feathers Along with the feel Of blood dripping from metal Cleansed me of my worries I hear no more! The cries of The clever birdie Now I hear just my own cry: "Hee Hee Haa Haa" -chuckle- Last words: Yes fool, I smack you with my leather belt buckle.