And Your Bird Can Sing

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    " You say you've seen seven wonders and your bird is green!
But you can't see me?
You can't see me... "

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     I woke up in John's bed again, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist and his chin in the crook of my neck. Truly, this was the most peaceful I could possibly feel. I squinted my eyes as I looked out the bright window, must've rained through the night as there was a thick layer of condensation on the glass. I took in a deep breath as I began to contemplate some overwhelming thoughts...

     "John let me in his band! John and I... are going together... in secret. George is mad at me again, how will I fix that? Speaking of which, how can I make George like John miraculously? Oh! Stu and Pete! How will we get them to leave the band? They're not exactly the reasonable type. How can I-" I was thinking to myself, that is until John interrupted my train of thought with a loud yawn.

    "G'morning, Macca!" He turned to me before kissing up my neck, sending me into a whirlwind.

    "Goodmorning... How'd ye sleep?" I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

    "Very peacefully, next to you." John blushed as he replied. "That bed-head of yer's suits ye real well, by the way."

     Everytime John said something lovey like that, it made my heart flutter with pure ecstasy.

     "So, what do we plan to do for today?" John got up, stretching his arms. "Who's life can we make more difficult?"

     "Well, I've got nothin' scheduled... We could try and write some music, maybe?" I suggested, getting off of the soft, plush mattress. "How long has it been since ye've done that, proper?"

     "Awhile." John sat up with a yawn and stood up next to me. He smiled as he pushed a tuft of my hair out of my face and behind my ear, "Okay, Macca, but what abou' yer Father? I'm still so anxious abou' him."

     "Don't worry abou' all that, I'll jus go back home later tonight." I smiled up at his face. "He's been easy on me, lately. Not payin' much thought abou' me, anyroad."

     John rolled his eyes sarcastically and picked up his guitar, "So, what tunes do ye got for us today, love?"

     "Well," I picked up my writing journal and opened it up. "Look through some of these." A bunch of words scribbled on old pages of paper filled the entire thing. I handed it to John nervously, worried about how he'd critique me. John grabbed the book and flipped through the pages vigorously, being sure to examine each one carefully.

    "This one... sing this one..." John pointed to a long paragraph of words. The song was titled, Blackbird.

     My face blushed slightly and I cleared my throat; I've never sang for anyone. I guess, not until now...

     John looked at me with eyes full of pure confidence. I then realized that right now, in this moment, I was on top of the world.

     "Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

     Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

     Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,
Into the light of the dark black night.

     Blackbird fly, blackbird fly,
Into the light of the dark black night.

     Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

     You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

     I finished singing and looked up to see John, his eyes were wild, mesmerized even. "Ye wrote all that, huh?" John asked quietly.

     "I did... I haven't got any type of idea to make a tune on the guitar for it, though. Maybe ye can help me wi' that part?" I half-smiled in humility.

     "It's amazin', Macca, I never heard somethin' so... heartfelt... in person. It's quite soft though, for a rock n' roll band, but... If ye like it, then I bloody love it. It also seems like ye've got a little melody down, so it shouldn't be too difficult to form a riff to it. ...I'd be more than happy to help ye!" John said in such a swooning voice.

     "Clearly, ye havent heard much live music. Yer exaggeratin' a tad bit, yeah?" I laughed. No way this song was that good. Not to someone as experienced as John, especially.

     "No! Infact, I really think that one day we can really go somewhere wi'... all of the music that ye've got written down in this." John flipped through the pages of my journal. "Yer quite the creative."

     I snatched it back, "Doubtful."

     "Ye don't give yerself much credit, do ye, darl'?" John rolled his eyes at me. If he kept rolling his eyes like that, they might get stuck that way, I swear it.

     "I don't really deserve it." I chuckled, but me saying that clearly made John upset.

     "Don't say that, Macca. Everyone deserves credit where it's due." He attempted to reassure me.

    "Thank ye, that... that really means a lot to me coming from you." I smiled, hearing this truly did warm my heart. He kissed my lips. "Honest."

     I almost didn't want to believe him when he complimented my music. No one has ever heard me sing, let alone liked it. Not even George, even though he's heard me play the guitar and vice versa, not once have I sang infront of any sort or crowd. This was a new feeling... a euphoric experience.

     The rest of the day we played songs for eachother on the guitar and tried to come up with different melodies to songs I wrote. I wasn't the only one to write, however. John had a plethora of poetry of his own in his journal. Although, he was reluctant to read any to me. I enjoyed today... a lot.

     After hours upon hours of being together, it was, sadly, time for me to leave.

     "I can walk ye home, Macca, really. It's no big deal." He very nearly begged, yet attempted to keep a cool demeanor about himself anyway, as per usual.

     "No, Johnny, I'll be fine. Promise. I don't want ye to be walkin' out here later than me all by yerself." I lightly kissed the side of his cheek and left the house. A tad nervous to what would happen once I got home.

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