11. Flightless Bird ( Iron, Wine) - text

 11. Flightless Bird, American Mouth ( Iron, Wine) - text

I was a guick, wet boy 
diving to deep for coins.
All of your street light eyes
wide on my plastics toys

Then when the cops closed
the fair, I cut my long baby hair.

Stole me a dog-eared map
and called for you
everywhere

Have I found you
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping
or lost you, american mouth
Big pill looming

Now I´m a fat house cat,
Nursing my sore, blunt tongue. 
Watching the warm poison rats 
curl through the wide fence cracks.

Pissing on the magazine photos.
Those fishing lures trown in the cold.
And clean blood of Christ mountain stream.

Have I found you? 
Flightless bird, grounded, bleeding
or lost you, american mouth.
Big pill stuck going down