[Intro: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC over chiming guitar] Dobra, listen, this is how a bird comes home [Verse 1: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, hard boom-bap drums, deep sub, chiming guitar] Nine years in a city where the rain don't know my name Same red bus, same night shift, every Friday is the same Back in Praga on a rooftop there's a coop I built at ten Out of pallets and a cupboard door, and I'd build it all again Pan Zbyszek feeds them now, he's eighty-one and swears in rhyme Sends me photos every Sunday, "Kuba, they ask for you, every time" Last week a bus came from the east, a crate tied up with twine Two grey birds inside it and a note in his old crooked line "Let them go from where you are, and watch which way they fly And if they make it home before you, kurde, tell me why" [Hook: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, full band, huge drums, glockenspiel ringin'] Let 'em go, let 'em go, they don't need a sign Twelve hundred kilometers, and they fly it in a line Nine years I been circlin' like a bird that lost the sky Every bird I ever raised is homing, and so am I [Verse 2: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, wing-clap takeoff, a burst of rapid handclaps as the birds go up, then the drums hit twice as heavy] Five a.m., a concrete balcony, a kettle and a crate I open up the little door, and Szary doesn't wait They hit the air like handclaps, and they climb above the cars Two circles round the chimney just to check which way is ours Then they turn their heads toward Warsaw, and they never once look back No passport and no ticket, just a feelin' and a track Nine years I said "next summer," nine years I said "next spring" Two birds don't say next anything, they just open up a wing [Hook: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, full band, huge drums, glockenspiel ringin'] Let 'em go, let 'em go, they don't need a sign Twelve hundred kilometers, and they fly it in a line Nine years I been circlin' like a bird that lost the sky Every bird I ever raised is homing, and so am I [Verse 3: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, full drums, heavier on every line] So I grabbed my keys and coat and drove the motorway due east Two borders and a thermos and a gas-station feast Every pigeon on a wire, I'd roll the window down, "go home" Like a crazy man in traffic, shoutin' at the birds alone I came over the Vistula as the lamps came on in rows Up six flights of stairs that only my old knees still know And there's Szary on the railing, and there's Mała on the vent And Pan Zbyszek with a cigarette says "Kuba, where'd you went?" "They been home since the afternoon, they sat and watched the street Like they knew you'd follow, so they flew ahead to save your seat" [Final Hook: Warsaw Polish-accented male MC, full band, huge drums, glockenspiel ringin'] Let 'em go, let 'em go, they don't need a sign Twelve hundred kilometers, and they fly it in a line Nine years I been circlin' like a bird that lost the sky Every bird I ever raised is homing, and so am I [End]
