It think there are several things wrong with this version. Here's what I heard, and you can consolidate as you see fit. I'm sure I've made more than a few mistakes:
The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney With remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect
But the yolk isn't easy in fact it's a drag
As they're blowin' through cornfields and mountains of rags
All over the suburbs across the great lawns
And they're cropdusting gardens all over this town
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
It gets in their lungs as it floats through the air
It gets in the food that they buy and prepare
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
Across the great chasms and schisms
And the sudden aneurysms
Where the black ink will drip across the crispus of your eyes and your teeth
They're worth more than you can spare
Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair
Don't speak about the cycles of life
'Cause your thoughts are so soft I can cut 'em with a spork, or a bride's knife
And the wine made our mouths too loose
Such a reckless choice of words
When you told me that I'm too abstruse
I just thought it was a kinda bird
I swear, I just stood there
Not saying a word
It think there are several things wrong with this version. Here's what I heard, and you can consolidate as you see fit. I'm sure I've made more than a few mistakes:
The finches and sparrows build nests in my chimney With remains of the small flightless birds that you failed to protect But the yolk isn't easy in fact it's a drag As they're blowin' through cornfields and mountains of rags All over the suburbs across the great lawns And they're cropdusting gardens all over this town
But nobody cares when it gets in their hair It gets in their lungs as it floats through the air It gets in the food that they buy and prepare But nobody cares when it gets in their hair
Across the great chasms and schisms And the sudden aneurysms Where the black ink will drip across the crispus of your eyes and your teeth They're worth more than you can spare Oh, don't tell me that it just isn't fair Don't speak about the cycles of life 'Cause your thoughts are so soft I can cut 'em with a spork, or a bride's knife
And the wine made our mouths too loose Such a reckless choice of words When you told me that I'm too abstruse I just thought it was a kinda bird I swear, I just stood there Not saying a word