Vārdi: Flaming Lips. Clouds Taste Metallic. This Here Giraffe.

I saw this bird fly off his head
Without him ever lookin' up
This here giraffe was never caught complainin'
He wouldn't take skin off your back

And you hear yourself, thinking
And you hear yourself, thinking
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed

I saw this man stick out his neck
With his binoculars intact
He couldn't tell the right side of his brain
Just lost all interest in his left

And you feel yourself shrinkin'
And you feel yourself shrinkin'
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed

And you hear yourself
And you hear yourself
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed
This here giraffe, laughed