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• Artiste: Andrew Bird
• Titre: The Privateers
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Don't sell me anything Your one time offer, so uncalled for You call it piece of mind Cause I can see your house from here Now leaves have fallen, dear I can see you're just a little privateer As your confession draws more near Time and again, I find I'm listless Or rather, fistless In time, oh, that's what I find So carry me to Mecca With what you may divine Take me with you, take me with you Don't leave me behind Oh cause I, I don't want your life insurance Home, moto, health, flood, and fire insurance Oh, just make, please make this basic inference And speak of me in the present tense Oh cause I, I can see your ship from here Now the weather, so bright and clear I can see you're just a little profiteer As your confession draws more near As your confession draws more near As your confession draws more near