Monday, May 11, 2009

Song of the Day: Heretics by Andrew Bird

In the spirit of the last post.



Bored holes through our tongues, so sing a song about it
Held our breath for too long till we're half sick about it
Tell us what we did wrong and you can blame us for it
Turn a clamp on our thumbs, we'll sew a doll about it
And tell us all about it
We'll sew a doll about it

How about some credit now
Where credit is due
For the damage that we've done
We have brought upon ourselves and others
With a slow and vicious gun
And although 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 of fatal
Not shy of fatal
Thank God
Thank God it's fatal
Thank God it's fatal
Not shy
Not shy of fatal
Not shy of 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-natal
What did I just hear you say?

Thank God it's fatal
No, we don't want to hear the sound of a door
No, we don't want to hear the sound of a door
And we don't want to read the signs that you bore
You know the kind of sign you hang on a door
Saying, "We'll be back. What a crack."
Now don't you think we might have heard that before?
Now don't you think we might have heard that before?

Bored holes through our tongues, so sing a song about it
Held our breath for too long till we're half sick about it
Tell us what we did wrong and you can blame us for it
Turn a clamp on our thumbs, we'll sew a doll about it

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