- Lyrics
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Cannonball Statman
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Hudson River
Under the sun.
Out of the blue, on Amsterdam Avenue, a baker's dozen red birds flew by you, screaming into your ears.
Screaming 'I know what's goin' on with you; it's nothing new! It's just that same old fractal repeating over your eyes, into your ears, on your hands.'
A baker's dozen red birds flew westward into the Hudson River that day. It's a strange thought, but what do you do when you've gotta run? Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
We're getting to the point where we can finally steal our hands back from the box of miscellaneous garbage stolen confiscatingly by the police; but it's not gonna be hard for the police, even though it's hard for everyone.
This machine is breaking down; it's time to pull the plug on the neon clown.
We're getting to the point where we can finally steal our lives back from the sky, where they've been held eternally, under lock and key (solitarily) by the police; but it's not gonna be hard for the police to break into our homes.
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