[Scene One. Setting: Telephone wire in London]

(Aside)

Henry Byrd: Why do we sit on this wire?
Why do we sit upon church spire?
Why can’t we birds find some nice place to sit?
Why can’t we sit in, rather than on top of it?
(End of aside)
—Move over, Cynthia Byrd!

Cynthia Byrd: Oy! There ‘tisn’t much room! Uncle Monroe is fluffing his feathers. I think it’s because of the pigeon ‘cross the street on the spire!

(Aside)

We’re doomed to pigeons and their sorts,
Not kingdoms and courts.
And in our regal crest,
One wonders if we’ve done our best.
(End of aside)
—Share your spoils, Arnold Byrd!

Arnold Byrd: I’ve worked hard to find this ribbon! Not just giving it to anybird passing!

(Aside)

Scavenging through trash and muck,
Most days without much luck,
Can really make a bird depressed
And on those better days seem blessed!
(End of aside)

[End Scene One]