Little birds and their words

Little birds and their little words mean nothing, they can't peck open your heart for a start but they are still a part of nature and what is both loving and cruel. My words have created a pool of blood that is red, bright red, not what you said... never blue and repentance has been felt where it's due for what I said to you. Little birds flapping, dancing in the trees, slapping anger out of me and romancing my fire, so there is no more desire to lash out. I've had a crash, and hit the wall, I've been falling and now I've landed back at the home tree. Little birds are seeing sense you see. I hope you can feel past tense, and pity. I was once a little bird in the city, and there were many flapping around me, my wings have been taken and therefore ground me, so confound what little birds of stupidity sang at you that day, they are paying for it. The words are ringing in their ears, and this little bird has cried many tears, for saying it. Little birds can peck out your eyes so you don't see what you should, but little birds can't alter your heart, and never could.