LYRIC

On lead poisoned wings, you try to sing
Freak beak shrieks are thrown at your confusing hue
The peacock screaming – eyes show no mercy, no mercy
Painted bird – it's absurd
Just a tainted bird hurting their twisted nerve
The flock will make you choke on this sadistic joke
And the whippoorwills – they make a din
In laughing unison you're hitchcock carrion
Carry on
Painted bird – it's absurd
Just a tainted bird hurting their twisted nerve
I hear your sorrow, maybe tomorrow
You'll lose your sorrow
When a fated weather will cleanse away
That painted feather and all that sorrow
A coquette in fur purr for the painted bird
Confound that dowdy flock with a sharp honed nerve
Because we're painted birds by our own design
By our own design there's no more sorrow
Have you heard about the painted bird?
Just a tainted bird hunting their twisted nerve
We've lost our sorrow – now it's tomorrow
No need to hide your feather under a fated weather
No more sorrow…
Now we're painted birds mocking that twisted nerve

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