There's a place you can go, where nobody knows you,
a place where you can say whatever you think,
of peace treaties and wars, of gangsters and whores,
of Alla and Jesus, and say that they stink,

or listen to the birds of foolishness,
to the mocking birds of emptyness,
as they find their own way to express their side -
there's nowhere to hide.

In the corner of this place, you can stand on a ladder,
and wait an hour for them to gather,
to comment and laugh at your serious face,
until they go and find someone better,

and listen to the birds of foolishness,
to the mocking birds of emptyness,
as they find a strange way to express their side -
there's nowhere to hide.

Those birds still follow me around,
I run away, trying to make no sound,
but when they're getting close to me,
I fall on the ground,

and listen to the bidrs of foolishness,
to the mocking birds of emptyness,
as they find you and you feel so dead inside -
there's nowhere to hide,

and listen to the birs of foolishness,
to the mocking birds of emptyness,
as they find me and I feel so dead inside -
there's nowhere to hide.