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• Artiste: Andrew Bird's Bowl Of Fire
• Titre: The Confession
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Don't tell me anything, anyhow Your contribution, proposed solution Fails for now 'Cause I can see your house from here Now the leaves have fallen, dear You're such a little privateer As your confession draws more near Don't sell me anything of any kind Your one time offers is so uncalled for You call it peace of mind But I don't want your life insurance Home auto health fire insurance Just make this basic inference Employ a little common sense Time and again I find I'm listless Or rather fistless In time that's what I find Carry me to Mecca with what you may divine Take me with you Take me with you You don't leave me Behind Don't tell me anything anyhow Your trite donation, commercialization Won't hold water now 'Cause I can see your ship from here Now the weather's bright and clear You're such a little privateer As your confessions draws near