Sing it muse, the way she sang,
The way she sang to her 10 children.
Teddy cried when she died and so did Mildred and George.
She was like the owl on top of buildings, scaring away crows from her merchandise.
She was admired for her bravery but she was stuck,
She was stuck on that roof all by her lonesome;
so she thought.
She thought the only one who understood was the scarecrow himself, who left her after Melissa was born.
She loved her 10 children, Annie included, but it was beginning to be too much.
The owl looked down to her claws,
they were glued on.
That was when she knew it had to be done,
She tugged her claws free and she thought she’d be happy,
Something was wrong, something always was...
She tried to keep strong, especially for Mary,
but she was far too tired.
She sung her little bird song, but not to Joe this time.
She sang it to her sleeping pills,
and her bottle of wine.
She looked beside her...
“Antoinette?” She whispered, and soon closed her eyes.
Her 10 children wept for her; her lonely soul that’d now be blue forever.