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
As you're blown through the 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 thier lungs as it floats through the air
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
But nobody cares when it gets in thier hair

Across the great chasms and schisms and the sudden aneurisms
Where the black encores drip across the crispus of your eye
And your teeth fill with more than you can spare
Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair
Don't speek 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
Such a reckless choice of words
When you tell me that I'm too abstruse
I thought I was a kind of bird
I swear I just stood there
Not saying a word
Not saying a word