"Birds" lyrics

Chain-smoking "Dunhill"s I bought in London Last February
Or was it March to the beat of Appalachia
I ain't no coal miner
Hell, I've got asthma
And sensitive skin
I'll skin you alive
Or roll you a joint
Custody is for the birds

For the birds

Let's talk about the paradox of Southern Literature
Let's talk about the films of Ingmar Bergman

I broke a tooth on a BLT
In the green room at the Turf Club in St. Paul
He's my favorite saint
I ain't Catholic but I appreciate
The history will repeat itself
History will repeat it
Self-medicating through mid-life crisis is for the birds

Let's talk about the Sound and the Fury
Let's talk about the Passion of Anna

We started sleeping in separate bedrooms seven months ago
And it suits us just fine
Et cetera
Et cetera
Et cetera