Everybody's talking
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Nobody's listening
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Everybody's sweating
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Nobody's glistening
|
|
Nobody knows what he's thinking
|
Doesn't really step out even when he's drinking
|
Seems kind of creepy seems like the kind that stalks
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Nobody knows when he's sinking
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Always looks pensive whether or not he's thinking
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To him it seems to him it screams
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Everyone's just waiting to talk
|
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Everyone's waiting to talk, Lord
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It's all so terribly awkward on the verandas in the front halls
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In the bus station's bathroom stalls
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Yes it seems everyone's just waiting to talk
|
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What must he be thinking?
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Can we even guess?
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He's not really linking
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Himself with the rest
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Does he know our big secret?
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Has one of us confessed?
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'Bout the wires circuits and motors
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Buried in our chest
|
|
It's all just a pointless equation
|
This parabolic conversation
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Like two distinct lines
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Never the twain shall meet
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Never? No never
|
|
Nobody knows what he's thinking
|
Doesn't really step out even when he's drinking
|
To him it seems to certain extremes
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That everyone's waiting to talk
|
|
-----------------
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Waiting to Talk
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| Andrew Bird |
