Well he might have won the Preakness, if he’d been born a horse

But, Frederick was just a Finch when he flew far beyond his fort

Father chased him through the city as he leapt into the sky

He flew on and on and on, until he learned to live or die.



Father saved a fallen feather, grabbed some ink and made a quill

Tried to write away his feelings, though they haven’t left him still

He’s moved on, but he remembers just how Fredrick used to fly

And, so if ever on command, Father knows that he could cry.



Fly, Fly, Frederick, fly!

around the world, across the sky

I put my words down on paper and I've only now learned why

It’s To tell you how much I've loved you, since you up and left to fly



Fredrick finally learned to laugh before he died

Oh, if Father could have seen, all the places Fredrick flied

Cincinnati and Sri Lanka, San Filipe and Staten Isle

Fredrick climbed the Eastern Alps and he swam the Western Nile



Father’s pain became a story every shelf was asked to hold

And although he honored Fredrick, some pain sticks upon the soul

There’s no remedy for reason found in fighting off a cry

So Father learned to be a pilot and couldn’t tell me why.


Fly, Father, fly

Around the world, across the sky