King of the Birds Songtext
von R.E.M.
King of the Birds Songtext
A thumbnail sketch, a jeweler′s stone
A mean idea to call my own
Old man don't lay so still you′re not yet young
There's time to teach, point to point,
Point observation, children carry reservations
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold, leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly
Singer sing me a given
Singer sing me a song
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Everybody's looking on
[(Old man don′t lay so still you′re not yet young, there's time to teach, point to point, point observation, children carry reservations)]
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly away, away, away
I am king of all I see
My kingdom for a voice
Old man don′t lay so still, you're not yet young
There′s time to teach, point to point
Point observation, children carry reservations
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold, leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly away, away, away
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
A mean idea to call my own
Old man don't lay so still you′re not yet young
There's time to teach, point to point,
Point observation, children carry reservations
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold, leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly
Singer sing me a given
Singer sing me a song
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Everybody's looking on
[(Old man don′t lay so still you′re not yet young, there's time to teach, point to point, point observation, children carry reservations)]
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly away, away, away
I am king of all I see
My kingdom for a voice
Old man don′t lay so still, you're not yet young
There′s time to teach, point to point
Point observation, children carry reservations
Standing on the shoulders of giants
Leaves me cold, leaves me cold
A mean idea to call my own
A hundred million birds fly away, away, away
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
Everybody hit the ground
Writer(s): Peter Lawrence Buck, Michael E. Mills, John Michael Stipe, William Thomas Berry Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com