this is the story of a girl...

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that he's in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay down, do you want
to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there,
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact
and it's nice enough to make a man weep,
but I don't weep,
do you?

-Charles Bukowski