Bluebird flying from the ashes Bluebird flying from the sea Bluebird flying three thousand miles To the shores of Galilee Where will I find my savior? What will it cost to be free? There’s a broken window at the end of the world If I could get off my damned knees I wanted to write about walking on eggshells And cutting my soul till it bleeds But that’s an old story and I’ve told it too often And I don’t really like where it leads ‘Cuz the problem with where it sits in my memory It gets harder and harder to see Just who was the good guy and who was the bad guy And lately I’ve been thinking it’s me Still it’s not hard to see how a bird in a cage Might have trouble unfurling her wings Even if she’s a prisoner who locked herself in there It’s still gonna hurt when she sings Bluebird flying from the ashes Bluebird flying from the sea Bluebird flying three thousand miles To the shores of Galilee Where will I find my savior? What will it cost to be free? There’s a broken window at the end of the world If I could get off my damned knees Leave out the bad parts, leave out the sad parts Ashes that used to be flame I gave you the power to walk on water Now I can’t recall my own name And once you get started, it’s hard to get off it The circle of passion and blame And in truth I don’t know, if I met you tomorrow, would I do it all over again? Bluebird flying from the ashes Bluebird flying from the sea Bluebird flying three thousand miles To the shores of Galilee Where will I find my savior? What will it cost to be free? There’s a broken window at the end of the world If I could get off my damned knees © 2021 Bluebird Flying Music Music & lyrics -- Michele Current Lead vocal -- Michele Current Acoustic guitar, piano, bass, percussion -- Dusty Holland Background/harmony vocals -- Michele Current, Gabrielle Kennedy, Kate Cardiff Vocal arrangement -- Michele Current, Gabrielle Kennedy, Kate Cardiff, Dusty Holland Co-produced by Michele Current and Dusty Holland Mixed/mastered by Dusty Holland Painting © 2021 by Sheila Randall
“Bluebird Flying” is based on a short piece of memoir detailing an incident between the love of my life and me about a songbird flying in through a broken window and becoming trapped in the house during a very bad fight that we were having.
It’s one of my favorite short pieces in terms of just how it’s written and my writer’s vanity makes me want to share it with you.
But I’m not going to, because as much as it’s a sort of a literal truth, it’s not the real truth. “Bluebird Flying” is much closer to the real truth of what is and was between us.
In my experience, a toxic relationship requires a villain and a victim, and more often than not, the roles are ambiguous and interchangeable, and there is a certain amount of consent involved in assuming either role. Engage in the dance between victim and villain long enough and inevitably both people eventually play both roles.
“Bluebird Flying” explores that dance between victim and villain, and how I left behind both roles and the man who danced them with me, to walk the Camino de Santiago to the End of the World.
At its heart, “Bluebird Flying” is about paradox. It’s about how a relationship can be toxic and crippling and dangerous, and also nourishing and life-affirming and empowering.
It’s also about how we can know in our deepest knowing that we belong with someone and at the same time, know that the only loving choice possible for both people is to leave. Or as JD once wrote, “love is why I came here in the first place, love is now the reason I must go.”
There’s a tradition that when you walk the Camino and arrive at the End of the World in Muxia, Spain, you offer whatever you want to leave behind to the sea. Standing on the rocks that January day, caught in the paradox of exhaustion and ecstasy, I slipped off his ring and threw it into the waves below. But the wind caught it and blew it over my head and back onto the shore again. I expect that’s because I’ll never really let him go and the temptation of going back will never fully dissipate, and because in truth, I don’t know… if I met him tomorrow, would I do it all over again?