Spare-ohs - Andrew Bird

The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney

what remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect

but their yolk isn’t easy in fact it’s a drag

as they’re blowing through cornfields and mountains of rags

all over the suburbs

across the great lawns

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 schisms

and the sudden aneurisms

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 mouths too loose

such a reckless choice of words

when you tell me that I’m too obstruce

I just thought it was a kind of bird

I just stood there not saying a word