John McCrea
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second

You see, birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second

I can see their dead weight
Just dropping like stones
Or small loaves of bread
Past my window all the time

But unless I get up
Walk across the room
And peer down below
I don't see their last-second curves
Toward a horizontal flight
All these birds just falling from the ledge like stones

Now due to a construct in my mind
That makes their falling and their flight
Symbolic of my entire existence
It becomes important for me
To get up and see
Their last-second curves toward flight

It's almost as if my life would fall
Unless I see their ascent
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Cuts swatches out of all material

Birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second

I said, birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second

But unless I get up
Walk across the room
And peer down below
I don't see their last-second curves
Toward a horizontal flight
All these birds just falling from the ledge like stones

Now due to a construct in my mind
That makes their falling and their flight
Symbolic of my entire existence
It becomes important for me
To get up and see
Their last-second curves toward flight

It's almost as if my life would fall
My life will fall
Unless I see their ascent
Ah yeah, ah yeah, alright
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Cuts swatches out of all material

Mr. Mastodon Farm
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Cuts swatches out of all material