Spare-Ohs

The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney What remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect But the yoke isn't easy, in fact it's a drag Acid blown to cornfields and mountains of rice All over the suburbs, across the great lawns And they're crop dusting gardens all over this town But nobody cares when it gets in their hair It gets in their lungs as it floats through the air It gets in the food that they buy and prepare But nobody cares when it gets in their hair Across the great chasms and the schisms and the sudden aneurysms Where the black ink will drip across the crespice of your eyes And your teeth are worth more than you can spare Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair Don't speak about the cycles of life 'Cause your thoughts are so soft I could cut 'em with a spork or a bride's knife And the wine made our minds too loose A reckless choice of words And you tell me that I'm too abstruse I just thought I was a kind of bird I swear I just stood there not saying a word Not saying a word, not saying a word --- Spare-Ohs - Andrew Bird