The Privateers - Andrew Bird

Don’t sell me anything

Your one time offer, so uncalled-for

You call it peace of mind

Cause I can see your house from here

Now all the leaves have fallen, dear

I can see you’re just a little privateer

As your confession draws more near

Time and again, I find I’m listless

Or rather, fistless

In time, oh, that’s what I find

So carry me to Mecca

With what you may divine

Take me with you, take me with you

Don’t leave me behind

Oh cause I, I don’t want your life insurance

Home, auto, health, flood, and fire insurance

Oh, just make, please make this basic inference

And speak of me in the present tense

Oh cause I, I can see your ships from here

Now all the weather’s so bright and clear

I can see you’re just a little profiteer

As your confession draws more near

As your confession draws more near

As your confession draws more near