Tekstovi: Andrew Bird. The Mysterious Production of Eggs. Masterfade.

well you sure didn't look like you were having any fun
with that heavy-metal gaze they'll have to measure in tons
and when you look up at the sky
all you see are zeros
all you see are zeros and ones

you took my hand and led me down to watch a kewpie doll parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
it's not that I just didn't care I must admit I was afraid
and I'm awfully glad my finger's resting gently on the masterfade

the masterfade
I coulda played along
the masterfade
I coulda played Mah Jongg
but it just takes too long
and I just can't remember
which way the east wind blows does it matter?
if we're all matter
what's it matter does it matter
if we're all matter when we're done?
when the sky is full of zeros and ones

I saw you standing all alone in the electrostatic rain
I thought at last I'd found a situation you can't explain
with GPS you know it's all just a matter of degrees
your happiness won't find you underneath that canopy of trees

if the green grass is 6 the soybeans are 7
the junebugs are 8 the weeds and thistles are 11
and if the 1s just hold their place the 0s make a smiley face
when they come floating down from the heavens

you took my hand and led me down to watch a papillon parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
you squeezed my hand and told me softly that I shouldn't be afraid
'cause all the while your finger's resting gently on the masterfade

the masterfade
I coulda played along
the masterfade
I coulda played Mah Jongg
but it just takes too long
and who the hell can remember
which way the east wind blows
when you're lying on the ground
staring up at an inverted compass
I mean Christ who Knows?