Birds Don’t Know The Names Of Notes

Have I heard you forever
But never listened?
I remember your voice
From when I lived in Africa
Little bluebird
Your tones fall around me
It's the most complicated
Melody I've ever heard
In the West
Pythagoras divided
The octave into intervals
To stave off chaos
He defined fourths and fifths
And invented the chords;
He did his work on
A string nailed to two boards
You sing me anarchy
I'm tempted to fall
Into the dionysian:
Nature's chordless swamp
I've got a stone in my throat
I play guitar on a sculpted tree;
If only I could sing the distance
Between you and me
I don't envy the
Natural singer
Birds don't know the names of notes
Birds don't know the names of notes