Revenge is an Act of Passion

So it would seem you've thought it out,
you've waited until nothing came about;
a hero that would never come
a battle that could never be won.
So many problems, endless fights,
so many long and sleepless nights;
god only knows, love is no help,
love/hate/love/hate, neither by themselves.
screaming is your mother's affection, you see,
it's only bittersweet intensity.
 
  The rain is gone the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  Where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?

Now here you stand, about to fall,
you've found a way to trump them all,
death seems hard, but living's worse
now you bear the hangman's curse.
So many things that might have been,
a fairytale you might have lived in;
the beauty around you can be so surreal
a fleeting reminder of what you might feel.

  The rain is gone the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?

But now that's all by-the-by,
turn to face your last moments and die;
oh, you know how it feels to be left in the rain,
to feel you are at the end of your chain.
You're tired of being the last to be loved,
the first one to blame, the first to shove;
you're tired of fighting, you're tired of strife,
to put it simply, you're tired of life.
With heart so full, it's hard to explain
exactly what can drive your pain,
but from up here, the world is calm
you know that they'll all carry on.
 
  The rain is gone, the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?

But here you go, the first to end,
to start a jump that will never land;
somewhere else, a small bird sings
you're the small bird, without her wings.
The bird that no one thought to save,
the bird that almost flew into her grave.

  The rain is gone, the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?

Isn't it ironic, the way things end?
a treehouse where you played pretend,
you've lived out lives around this place,
and here it is at the end of the race.
Who'd really win, if you were lost today?
Your father, your mother, who threw you away?
This nightmare you've woven around your neck,
it surely would catch you and not even break.
It could all end right now, the end of your hope,
it all comes down to the end of the rope.
 
  The rain is gone, the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?

But life isn't ready for you to check out,
and death isn't quite prepared for you now,
you were never meant to go out this way,
so you cannot possibly die today.
It's entirely possible it'd be considered revenge,
if they saw you there, at your final end.
But, little bird, there's more life for worry,
you cannot check out in all of your fury.
You have things before you, like true love of your mother,
and you'll use this day for the help of another.
It'll be tough but the worst is not now,
you'll learn to live life, though you don't know how.
Little bird, find yourself someplace in the sky,
and there you will see you were born to fly...
 
  The rain is gone, the snows are past,
  the summer now has come at last,
  the time for birds to fly outside,
  around the treehouse, learn to hide.
  where's your soul and what do you choose-
  revenge to win, your life to lose?