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
 For 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 will fall
 Unless I see their ascent.
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Cuts swatches out of all material.
 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 won't see their last second curves
 Toward a, 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 like my life will fall,
 My life will fall,
 Unless I see their ascent.
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Cuts swatches out of all material.
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Mr. Mastodon farm,
 Cuts swatches out of all material.
 Mr. Mastodon Farm,
 Mr. Mastodon farm,
 Cuts swatches out of all material