According to Robyn Schiff,
I'm a "Devil Finch" flying seven
centimeters away from
Her Highness the Sun-- only
to perch
restfully on
barrels of
issued rifles.
If you do hear me singing,
you just caught me in a trap of dissection.
"If" here,
implies an absurd condition
as my complexity is beyond your analysis.

In other words, you don't hear me
because I'm always free...

You don't hear me? Drop your rifle, Fly with me