To you, little bird,
this Friday is good,
as every day is good,
each morning, mercy-full Sunrise, sunset,
you seek and find daily bread
in the stone shadows of cathedrals You rest on red-tiled rooftops,
as men beneath seek luxury,
purchase what to you is free Might they live like you –
numbered, known, counted,
considered and considerate Cross and crown
and all other things
freely received
as freely given