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
Acid blown to 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 their lungs as it floats through the air
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
Across the great chasms and the schisms and the sudden aneurysms
Where the black ink will drip across the crespice of your eyes
And your teeth are worth more than you can spare
Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair
Don't speak 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
A reckless choice of words
And you tell me that I'm too abstruse
I just thought I was a kind of bird
I swear I just stood there not saying a word
Not saying a word, not saying a word
What remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect
But the yoke isn't easy, in fact it's a drag
Acid blown to 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 their lungs as it floats through the air
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
Across the great chasms and the schisms and the sudden aneurysms
Where the black ink will drip across the crespice of your eyes
And your teeth are worth more than you can spare
Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair
Don't speak 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
A reckless choice of words
And you tell me that I'm too abstruse
I just thought I was a kind of bird
I swear I just stood there not saying a word
Not saying a word, not saying a word
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What it was was this:
Andrew Bird has a farm somewhere on the east coast. He had chickens that were kept in a coop. He would try to protect them from foxes (or coyotes, I don't remember which) but the foxes or coyotes would keep getting into the coop and Andrew Bird couldn't protect his chickens. All that would be left of the chickens would be their feathers, which would be picked up by sparrows and carried to their nests in Andrew Bird's chimney. When he would start a fire in the fireplace, the nests would all be incinerated and turned to ashes which would end up in people's hair and food.
Sorry about that.
-Sean
Is crespice a real word? Maybe it's a blend of 'crest' and 'precipice?'
I appreciate what I see as a bit of self-mockery when he uses an archaic spelling for "abstruse."
in the song he mentions too much wine having been consumed, so i think these variations are drunken "intellectualisms" reiterated by abstruse (abstract/obtuse)
you know how when you get really drunk and you're reasonably smart sober, but you chew on your words like beef jerky? i think this is what he's illustrating.
he's so smart!
as a child living on a farm, he had the job of making sure all of the chickens were safe from harm.. (a fox)
sadly, he says that he wasn't very good at his job and had often found a horrid sight by next morning... the feathers from the now diseased chickens were often carried in the house chimney by sparrows---(hints the name, spare-ohs) to be made into nests... once again, a sad ending to these birds' lives as well (living in a fireplace) the feathers from these birds had traveled through the house and into there food, hair, but no one seemed to care.... a sad memory of andrew's that makes a beautiful song and story...
Oh* don’t tell me that it just isn’t fair
maybe that has to do with the title?
i was listening to this song this morning, and thinking "this song must be about chickens" the whole day. i think that's kind of funny now that i see the story behind the song.
gothamist.com/2007/05/16/…
I think his personal experience with the chickens starts if off. He rolls the story of the fallen chickens and ubiquitous feathers into the lines "all over the suburbs / across the great lawns / crop-dusting gardens all over this town" which are fairly clear commentaries on modern suburbia and people's general lack of care about the blanketing of foliage with chemicals and the plight of animals (such as chickens). This is probably connected to the his "greeness" as describe above, and also he seems to be saying that the burden of the event ("the yolk is a drag") weighs on him as he is reminded of it by the feathers that fall all over the town that no one seems to mind.
The second verse seems to be a conversation in which he relates the severity of his experience with the chickens to someone else, saying that they don't understand what he is saying, to the point of them being seperated by "great chasms and schisms" including that which lies within (through the crespice of the eyes), and that the listener's response is either simple or naive: "don't speak about the cycles of life / 'cause your thoughts are so soft / I could cut 'em with a spork or a bride's knife", as if to say that there is no substance to the words he receives in response.
The he follows with more bird references, which seem to refer to himself -- his name is Andrew Bird afterall, and the reference at the end "when you tell me that I'm too obstruce / I just thought it was a kind of bird" probably reflects a lot of his personal experiences being different/creative and having people say strange things to him, as if to say "what did you say about me? Are you saying that I'm a "strange bird" somehow? To which he follows "I just stood there not saying a word" which describes the exasperation one has in the situation -- having just related something intense and personal all he gets in response is the comment that he's a little weird.
The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney
what remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect
but their yolk isn't easy in fact it's a drag
as they're blowing through cornfields and mountains of rags
all over the suburbs
across the great lawns
crop-dusting gardens all over this town
but nobody cares when it gets in their hair
it gets in their lungs as it floats through the air
it gets in the food that they buy and prepare
but nobody cares when it gets in their hair
across the great chasms and schisms
and the sudden aneurisms
where the black ink will drip
across the crespice of your
eyes and your teeth
are worth more than you can spare-
-oh don't tell me that it just isn't fair
don't speak 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 mouths too loose
such a reckless choice of words
when you tell me that I'm too obstruce
I just thought it was a kind of bird
I just stood there not saying a word x 3
The first is the literal: there are dead things burning up and getting in our hair.
The second is on a more abstract macroscopic scale: the cycle of life is obvious, ignored, but no less mysterious and meaningful.
Reading the song as an environmentalist manifesto or song about extinction is a bit of a stretch, except insofar as the meaningful cycle of life invoked by the ashes of the chickens implies the interconnectedness of all life (and death) on Earth, and the song's meaning can therefore encompass such topics indirectly. Blades of Grass, and all that. ;)
'but nobody cares when it gets in their hair
it gets in their lungs as it floats through the air
it gets in the food that they buy and prepare
but nobody cares when it gets in their hair'
It's about the ashes getting in peoples hair and food. Sort of a circle of live. That is the basic meaning of this song, but if you read the lyrics you notice the brilliance he put into the words.
Also interesting that he chooses sparrows as his title. Perhaps a not terribly veiled reference to a Bible verse"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father's care." Doubt that the second line of the song is coincidental, and it underscores the main point in both songs about honestly caring instead of dissembling.
Finally, I thought it was a nice comedic touch (and there are so many in his songs, even a sensitive one like spare-ohs) when he plays with abstruse versus albatross ("some kind of bird") -- one usually thought to be an ill omen.
Beautiful music tied to thoughtful lyrics.
The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney With remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect
But the yolk isn't easy in fact it's a drag
As they're blowin' through cornfields and mountains of rags
All over the suburbs across the great lawns
And they're cropdusting gardens all over this town
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
It gets in their lungs as it floats through the air
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
Across the great chasms and schisms
And the sudden aneurysms
Where the black ink will drip across the crispus of your eyes and your teeth
They're worth more than you can spare
Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair
Don't speak about the cycles of life
'Cause your thoughts are so soft I can cut 'em with a spork, or a bride's knife
And the wine made our mouths too loose
Such a reckless choice of words
When you told me that I'm too abstruse
I just thought it was a kinda bird
I swear, I just stood there
Not saying a word