Andrew Bird
The Privateers
Don't sell me anythingYour one time offer, so uncalled forYou call it piece of mindCause I can see your house from hereNow leaves have fallen, dearI can see you're just a little privateerAs your confession draws more nearTime and again, I find I'm listlessOr rather, fistlessIn time, oh, that's what I findSo carry me to MeccaWith what you may divineTake me with you, take me with youDon't leave me behindOh cause I, I don't want your life insuranceHome, moto, health, flood, and fire insuranceOh, just make, please make this basic inferenceAnd speak of me in the present tenseOh cause I, I can see your ship from hereNow the weather, so bright and clearI can see you're just a little profiteerAs your confession draws more nearAs your confession draws more nearAs your confession draws more near
From Letras Mania