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    Birds
    Birds

    This is not a cornhusk doll
    Dipped in blood in the moonlight
    Like what happen' in America
    This is us, our eyesides snagged
    Dipped in mob in the daylight
    Like what happen' in America

    The breasts are still heavy
    The legs long and straight
    The upper lip remains short
    The teeth still too small
    The eyeside is green
    The hair long and black
    Still coming through!
    Still coming through!

    She knows this room
    She can navigate it in the dark

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    She entered the Palazzo at night by a side door
    To ascend in a lift to the upper floor
    She lies on the bed, looking up not yet seeing
    The signs of the zodiac painted in gold on the blue vaulted ceiling
    His enormous eyes as he arrives
    Coming nearer in the surrounding darkness
    His strange beliefs about the moon
    Its influence upon men of affairs
    The danger of its cold light
    On your face while you were sleeping
    She'll eclipse it with her head, stroke him 'til he sleeps
    Until he has nothing to do among men of affairs

    Sometime before dawn
    Her bare feet cross the floor
    She gazes from the window
    At the fountain in the courtyard
    Sometimes I feel like a swallow
    A swallow which by some mistake
    Has gotten into an attic
    And knocks its head against the walls in terror

    This is not a rabbit skinned
    With a body of silver
    Like what happen' in America
    This is not a terrapin
    With its shell torn away
    Like what happen' in America

    The breasts are still heavy
    The legs long and straight
    The upper lip remains short
    The teeth still too small
    The eyeside is green
    The hair long and black
    Still coming through!
    Still coming through!

    The mood soon changed in the clear morning air
    A man came up towards the body and poked it with a stick
    It rocked stiffly and twisted around at the end of the rope
    Finer than a hair from every side
    Finer than a hair

    This is just a cornhusk doll
    Dipped in blood in the moonlight
    This is just a cornhusk doll

    This morning in my room
    A little swallow was trapped
    It flew around desperately
    Until it fell exhausted on my bed
    I picked it up
    So as not to frighten it
    I opened the window
    Then I opened my hand

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Scott Walker

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