My secret lust will now be publicized,
I wish to tell you my wish
You in the air with your fluff and stink,
I think I want nothing more
And I can see you here from the ground,
that stupid bliss in your eye
I’ll wait ‘cause I know [bad word] down,
then things will change
Things will change for my better
And things will change to your blackest dreams
I will know from your feathers decorating my teeth
My envy for such ability is charred resentment the same
All in the guise of some passiveness, but you mistake. . .
My slavery to this gravity, your migratory skills
You laugh from bows, wires and chimney, but things will change
Things will change for my pleasure
And things will change to your darkest fear
I will know from your feathers decorating my fair dreams
You and your pompous-like circumstance (are) like shoehorns right down my throat
This daily strain of hostility is your mistake
For I will wait here patiently,
my body low to the ground
With my new, patented surgery things will change
Things will change in my belly
And things will change with your vertebrae
I will know from your feathers decorating my fair dreams