Lucky you, meadowlark!
We cannot devote our days to singing, for having bills to pay, and various social obligations to meet. Darn it to pieces, you high-perched singer you, we have a “front” requiring constant maintenance, lest we be carted off for psychiatric examination and/or incarceration.
You find a fence post or tree limb, lift your voice, and the world is yours.
Again, lucky you!