Left-Handed Kisses

I don't believe everything happens for a reason
To us romantics out here, that amounts to high treason
I don't go in for your star-crossed lovers
In the heart of a skeptic
There's a question that still hovers near

For it begs the question
How did I ever find you
Now you got me writing love songs
With a common refrain like this one here, baby

And all your left handed kisses
Were just prelude to another
Prelude to your backhanded love song, baby

But it begs a question
How did I ever find you
Drifting gently through the gyre
Of the great Sargasso sea, Atlantic Ocean
Got me writing love songs
With a common refrain like this one here

The point your song here misses
Is that if you really loved me
You'd risk more than a few 50 cent
Words in your backhanded love song

For it begs the question
How did I ever find you
Drifting gently through the gyre
Of the great Sargasso sea, Atlantic Ocean

The point your song here misses
You got me writing love songs
Is that you really love me
With a common refrain like this one here, baby
Is prelude to another of your backhanded love songs

Now it's time for a handsome little bookend
Now it's time to tie up all the loose ends
Am I still a skeptic or did you make me a believer?
If you hesitate, you'll hear the click of the receiver

(Andrew Bird and Fiona Apple)

My Sister's Tiny Hands

We came in this world together
Legs wrapped around each other
My cheek against my sister's
We were born like tangled vine

We lived along the river
Where the black clouds never lingered
The sunlight spread like honey
Through my sister's tiny hands

But while picking sour apples
In the wild waving grasses
Sister stumbled in the briar
And was bitten by a snake

Every creature casts a shadow
Under the sun's golden fingers
And as the sun sinks past the waving grass
Some shadows are dragged along

Alone, I took to drinking
Bottles of cheap whiskey
And staggering through the back woods
Killing snakes with a sharpened stick

But still I heard her laughing
In those wild waving grasses
Still her tiny hands went splashing
At the river's sparkling shore

So I took my rusty gas can
And an old iron shovel
I set the woods to blaze
And choked the river up with stones

Every creature casts a shadow
Under the sun's golden fingers
And as the sun sinks past the waving grass
Some shadows are dragged along

(Andrew Bird)

Desperation Breeds...

(Andrew Bird)

Effigy

If you come to find me affable
And build a replica for me
Would the idea to you be laughable
Of a pale facsimile

So will you come to burn an effigy
It should keep the flies away
And when you long to burn this effigy
It should be of the hours that slip away
Slip away

It could be you
It could be me
Working the door
Drinking for free
Carrying on with your conspiracies
Filling the room with a sense of unease
Fake conversations on a nonexistent telephone
Like the words of a man who's spent a little too much time alone
When one has spent too much time alone

So will you come to burn my effigy
It should keep the flies away
If you long to burn an effigy
It should be of a man whose lost his way
Slips away

It could be you
It could be me
Working the door
Drinking for free
Carrying on with your conspiracies
Filling the room with a sense of unease
Fake conversations on a nonexistent telephone
Like the words of a man who's spent a little too much time alone
When one has spent too much time alone

(Andrew Bird)

The Happy Birthday Song

when i wake up
in the morning,
pour the coffee,
and i read the paper,
and i slowly,
and so softly,
i do the dishes.
i feed the fishes.
sing a birthday
sing it like it's going to be your last day.
like it's hallelujah,
don't let it just pass on through ya
it's a giant and long cliché,
and that's why i want you to sing it anyway
sing me happy birthday
'cause hell, what's it all about?

sing me happy birthday,
happy birthday.
it's gonna be your last day,
gonna be your last day.

sing me happy birthday,
happy birthday,
like it's going to be,
going to be your last day.

(Andrew Bird)

Masterfade

well you sure didn't look like you were having any fun
with that heavy-metal gaze they'll have to measure in tons
and when you look up at the sky
all you see are zeros
all you see are zeros and ones
you took my hand and led me down to watch the kewpie doll parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
it's not that I just didn't care I must admit I was afraid
and I'm awfully glad my finger's resting gently on the masterfade
the masterfade
I coulda played along
the masterfade
I coulda played Mah Jongg
but it just takes too long
and I just can't remember
which way the east wind blows does it matter?
if we're all matter
what's it matter does it matter
if we're all matter when we're done?
when the sky is full of zeros and ones
I saw you standing all alone in the electrostatic rain
I thought at last I'd found a situation you can't explain
with GPS you know it's all just a matter of degrees
your happiness won't find you underneath that canopy of trees
if the green grass is 6 the soybeans are 7
the junebugs are 8 the weeds and thistles are 11
and if the 1s just hold their place the 0s make a smiley face
when they come floating down from the heavens
you took my hand and led me down to watch a papillon parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
you squeezed my hand and told me softly that I shouldn't be afraid
'cause all the while your finger's resting gently on the masterfade
the masterfade
I coulda played along
the masterfade
I coulda played Mah Jongg
but it just takes too long
and who the hell can remember
which way the east wind blows
when you're lying on the ground
staring up at an inverted compass
I mean Christ who knows?

(Andrew Bird)

Fake Palindromes

my dewy-eyed disney bride, what has tried
swapping your blood with formaldehyde?
monsters?
whiskey-plied voices cried fratricide!
jesus don't you know that you could've died
(you should've died)
with the monsters that talk, monsters that walk the earth

and she's got red lipstick and a bright pair of shoes
and she's got knee high socks, what to cover a bruise
she's got an old death kit she's been meaning to use
she's got blood in her eyes, in her eyes for you
she's got blood in her eyes for you

certain fads, stripes and plaids, singles ads
they run you hot and cold like a rheostat, i mean a thermostat
so you bite on a towel
hope it won't hurt too bad

my dewy-eyed disney bride, what has tried
swapping your blood with formaldehyde?
what monsters that talk, monsters that walk the earth

and she says i like long walks and sci-fi movies
if you're six foot tall and east coast bred
some lonely night we can get together
and i'm gonna tie your wrists with leather
and drill a tiny hole into your head

(Andrew Bird)

Heretics

Bored holes through our tongues, to 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 wrought 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, to 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

(Andrew Bird)