What it must feel like to fly,

To ride up high and touch the sky,

Flapping till done to avoid the gun,

What is must feel like to fly.

What is must feel like to swim,

To move with fins more gracious than limbs,

Eyes open wide to spy Captain Bird’s Eye,

What is must feel like to swim.

What is must feel like to run,

To rush in the sun because it’s such fun,

Starving in the heat because food is deplete,

What it must feel like to run.

What is must feel like climb,

To creep towards the divine on trees old as time,

Avoiding falling branches and McDonald’s cattle ranches,

What it must feel like to climb.

What it must like to slide,

To be so incredibly sly and feared kingdom wide,

With so attractive a skin to make handbags in,

What it must feel like to slide.

What it must feel like to walk,

To talk the talk, pile food on the fork,

Gorging on resource without remorse,

Nothing to despise but no pay rise,

Bearing no strain but visible weight gain,

Looking with envy at pictures on the telly,

To destroy and slaughter without a single thought after,

What it must feel like to walk.