Out the door, is there something you want more,
strangers calling out your fleshy name.
Like little birds we fly, through the open air at night,
cold but determined anyway.
Sometimes I feel i'm perfect at being alone,
sometimes I feel i'm perfect when your around.
Curse the sun because it knew all along,
little birds were made for shallow graves,
So they fell to the earth, amongst the leaves and the dirt,
and that is where they will stay.
Little bird, circled the earth, but this little bird, was always stuck in reverse.
credits
from Pressure Happy,
released December 12, 2010
Written and recorded by Joe Blackford
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