Birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second
You see, birds fall from the window ledge above mine
Then they flap their wings at the last second
I can see their dead weight
Just dropping like stones
Or small loaves of bread
Past my window all the time
But unless I get up
Walk across the room
And peer down below
I don't see their last-second curves
Toward a horizontal flight
All these birds just falling from the ledge like stones
Now due to a construct in my mind
That makes their falling and their flight
Symbolic of my entire existence
It becomes important for me
To get up and see
Their last-second curves toward flight
It's almost as if my life would fall
Unless I see their ascent
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Cuts swatches out of all material
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Mr. Mastodon Farm
Cuts swatches out of all material
