Bluebird, Charles Bukowski.

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?