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Indie, Folk Rock
Andrew Bird (born July 11, 1973) is an American musician, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist. He was born in Chicago and currently splits his time between Chicago and a farm near the town of Elizabeth in northwest Illinois. His musical proficiency includes violin, whistling, guitar, mandolin, and glockenspiel. Wikipedia
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Born host to a tongue
So sing a song about it
Held a breath for too long
Till we're half sick about it
Tell us what we did wrong
Then you can blame us for it
Turn the clamp on a phone
So we're down about it
And tell us all about it
We're so in doubt about it
How about some credit now
Where credit is due
For the damage that was done
We have wrought upon ourselves and others
With this blow, ambitious gun
And all the pratfalls can be fun
Encores can be fatal | | And then I hear you say,
Thank God it's fatal. Thank God it's fatal.
Not shy
Not shy and fatal, not shy and fatal. Thank God.
Thank God it's fatal. Thank God it's fatal.
Not shy
Not shy and fatal, not shy and fatal. | Wait just a second now
It's not all that bad
Are we not having fun?
You make your mountains of handkerchiefs
Where the mascara always runs
So be careful when you're done
You're bound to get post-needle
Wait, did I just hear you say... | | Thank God it's fatal
No, we don't want to hear the sound of a draw
No, we don't want to hear the sound of a draw
And we don't want to hear the signs that your bore
You know the kind of sign you hang on a door
Saying, "We'll be back. We're a crack." |
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