Canary Song Poem by Mark Heathcote

My lonely auntie Katherine
kept them till-they-croaked
but I, myself, don't keep canaries
I don't keep canaries
If they sing, then they can sing
If they cry, then they can cry
If they fly well-then-let-them fly
I, myself, don't keep canaries
I don't keep canaries.

I would rather die.
I would rather live-alone
then turn my home into a cage
and listen to their sad songs rage
but God knows I like them all
I like their happy vocalised-trill
but not their awful shrill
especially-if-they-feed me up pig-swill
I swear I'll swear it's-my free will.
My lonely auntie Katherine
kept them till-they-croaked
but I, myself, don't keep canaries
I don't keep canaries

They're like daffodils, better left unpicked
but God knows I like them all
so let me hear contradict myself
I've picked just one, and I love her to bits
she makes me sing.

She makes me cry
and at times, I wish that I could fly
but for her, I would die.
My lonely auntie Katherine
kept-them-till they croaked
but I, myself, don't keep canaries
I don't keep canaries.