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Ides of Swing - Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire



     
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Ides of Swing Lyrics


Some say April is the cruelest
And though I can be quite morose
The stiff who penned it on a fool's list
Of those who are chronically verboseWhen your head starts craning back
And your breath comes short and fast
The music of the spheres start to bounce and sing
That's when you know you're swingingWhen your eyes roll back into your head
And the sap from the trees on your fingers have bled
Swooning to the charms of Mephisto's waltz
That's when you know you've got some schmaltzWhen you've got the evil eye and unconsciously growl
Your hands start shaking and you crouch and prowl
These terrifying symptoms are a sure fire sign
That you're pimping, baby and you're feeling fine
Songwriters
Bird Andrew WegmanPublished by
WEGAWAM MUSIC CO. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Forget the violin. Forget the classical background. As troubadour Andrew Bird puts it, “At this point the violin just happens to be the instrument I have on hand to make the sounds that I hear. I like to abuse it and pull as many sounds out of it as I can.” Bird is a masterful and intuitive singer / songwriter, and what he does while performing—alternately plucking and bowing his violin, then immediately sampling the results, layering the sounds with guitar, whistling, glockenspiel and vocals—bears little resemblance to what most people might expect.

Read more about Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire on Last.fm.


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Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire