… ist ein­fach ein Klas­si­ker, wenn es um „inte­res­ting (and some­ti­mes rather cryp­tic) simi­les“ geht:

Like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a mid­ni­ght choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
Like a knight from some old fashio­ned book
I have saved all my rib­bons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.

Like a baby, stillborn,
Like a beast with his horn
I have torn ever­yo­ne who reached out for me.
But I swe­ar by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.
I saw a beg­gar lea­ning on his woo­den crutch,
He said to me, „You must not ask for so much.“
And a pret­ty woman lea­ning in her dar­ken­ed door,
She cried to me, „Hey, why not ask for more?“

Oh like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a mid­ni­ght choir
I have tried in my way to be free.