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The ballroom was filled with fashion’s throng. It shone with a thousand lights. There was a woman who passed along. The fairest of all the sights. A girl to her lover then softly cried “there‘s riches at her command but she married for wealth and not for love though she lived in a mansion grand. she’s only a bird in a gilded cage. A beautiful sight to see. You may think she’s happy and free from care, she’s not what she seems to be. ‘Tis sad when you think of her wasted life, for youth cannot mate with age. But her beauty was sold for an old man’s gold. She’s a bird in a gilded cage.” I stood in a churchyard just at eve when sunset adorned the west, and I looked at the people who come to grieve for loved ones now laid to rest. A tall marble monument marked the grave of one who had been fashion’s queen and I thought she is happier here at rest then to have people say when seen… “she’s only a bird in a gilded cage. A beautiful sight to see. You may think she’s happy and free from care, she’s not what she seems to be. ‘Tis sad when you think of her wasted life, for youth cannot mate with age. But her beauty was sold for an old man’s gold. She’s a bird in a gilded cage.”

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