Waiting to Talk - Andrew Bird

Everybody’s talking

Nobody’s listening

Everybody’s sweating

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

Nobody knows when he’s sinking

Always looks pensive whether or not he’s thinking

To him it seems to him it screams

Everyone’s just waiting to talk

Everyone’s waiting to talk, Lord

It’s all so terribly awkward on the verandas in the front halls

In the bus station’s bathroom stalls

Yes it seems everyone’s just waiting to talk

What must he be thinking?

Can we even guess?

He’s not really linking

Himself with the rest

Does he know our big secret?

Has one of us confessed?

'Bout the wires circuits and motors

Buried in our chest

It’s all just a pointless equation

This parabolic conversation

Like two distinct lines

Never the twain shall meet

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

That everyone’s waiting to talk