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The Pot Bellied Goddess Lyrics
The birds have all flown underground,
The trees bend down to touch the sky.
Silence is now the only sound,
We wait for page numbers to fly.
They had a lot to say, had a lot to say,
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
What is wrong with the birds?
Please, tell me what it is.
They don't sing anymore,
And it gets harder every year
To remind them of the tune.
We have to help them soon,
Will you help me sing?
We are the birds,
We know the words,
But we just don't want to sing.
Well, I think I overheard their plan
When I was walking all alone.
They took a vow to sing again
When the cow jumps over the moon.
They had a lot to say, a lot to say,
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
What is wrong with the birds?
Please, tell me what it is.
They don't sing anymore,
And I don't think they will again.
Can you teach the pigs the tune?
So we can hear it soon.
Will you help them sing?
We are the birds,
We know the words,
But we just don't want to sing.
They had a lot to say, a lot to say,
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
They had so much to say, so much to say.
They had so much to say, so much to say.
It's hard to walk with shaky knees.
It's hard to talk with shattered teeth.
Well, it's getting late for birds like me.
My song will cease, I'll rest my wings.
The trees bend down to touch the sky.
Silence is now the only sound,
We wait for page numbers to fly.
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
Please, tell me what it is.
They don't sing anymore,
And it gets harder every year
To remind them of the tune.
We have to help them soon,
Will you help me sing?
We know the words,
But we just don't want to sing.
When I was walking all alone.
They took a vow to sing again
When the cow jumps over the moon.
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
Please, tell me what it is.
They don't sing anymore,
And I don't think they will again.
Can you teach the pigs the tune?
So we can hear it soon.
Will you help them sing?
We know the words,
But we just don't want to sing.
They had a lot to say, a lot to say.
They had so much to say, so much to say.
They had so much to say, so much to say.
It's hard to talk with shattered teeth.
Well, it's getting late for birds like me.
My song will cease, I'll rest my wings.
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The meaning of the song is not very hard to understand. I will though help clear up somthing, the chorus is,
What Is Wrong With The Birds? Please, Buffy Tell Me What It Is.
its in the CD growing up here in NC i know who Schuylar is. Now his girlfriends name is., Buffy.
just for FYI.
Thanks for the info Fallen.
I adore this song for it's lyrics. They're really good, maybe my favorite on the album.
I think the title is about how there is no such thing as perfection because goddesses are supposed to be the images of beauty and perfection and theres a pot belly on it so i guess it just means theres nothing perfect..thats the only interpretation i have
I love this song. The lyrics are so thought provoking. But in the first verse doesn't it say
"We wait for pigs, not birds to fly." ?
his world has been turned upside-down
i dont think "pot-bellied" is supposed to be meant as an imperfection, but as simply beautiful in itself
birds represent christians. christians are supposed to set an example and have people look up and see something in them such as seeing birds fly. but in this day in age every year more things start becoming more acceptable and the world is going down. but the birds arent out speaking the gospel and they are even starting to accept and think things previosuly looked at to be wrong as ok which is why its getting harder every year. they still know the words and know the things are wrong but they dont want to speak out on it because they are scared.
Mea Interpretation:
The birds have all flown underground (The free creators, their safe haven) The trees bend down to touch the sky ( The world is upside down) Silence is now the only sound (It has been said that it’s the space between the bars that holds the tiger. And it’s the silence between the notes that makes the music. It is out of the silence, or “the gap,” or that space between our thoughts, that everything is created including our own bliss.” ) We wait for pigs not birds to fly ( Selling one self out to the establishment and feeding it's puppet masters "Take it and eat it. It will turn your stomach sour, but 'in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey.)
They had a lot to say, had a lot to say They had a lot to say, a lot to say (They said a lot about nothing)
What is wrong with the birds? (The creative force, imagination has been sold out) The darkness shadows the creative, stifling, suffocating a painful death of the light and becomes no more...