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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Andrew Bird
Violin
Fiona Apple
Vocals
Alan Hampton
Bass
Blake Mills
Guitar
Ted Poor
Drums
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Andrew Bird
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Andrew Bird
Producer
Tony Berg
Producer
David Boucher
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I don't believe everything happens for a reason
To us romantics out here, that amounts to high treason
I don't go in for your star-crossed lovers
In the heart of a skeptic, there's a question that still hovers near
[Verse 2]
For it begs the question
How did I ever find you?
Now you got me writing love songs
With a common refrain like this one here, baby
[Verse 3]
And all your left handed kisses
Were just prelude to another
Prelude to your backhanded love song, baby
[Verse 4]
But it begs a question
How did I ever find you?
Drifting gently through the gyre
Of the great Sargasso sea, Atlantic Ocean
Got me writing love songs
With a common refrain like this one here
[Verse 5]
The point your song here misses
Is that if you really loved me
You'd risk more than a few fifty cent words
In your backhanded love song
[Verse 6]
For it begs the question
How did I ever find you?
Drifting gently through the gyre
Of the great Sargasso sea, Atlantic Ocean, ooh
[Verse 7]
The point your song here misses
You got me writing love songs
Is that you really love me
With a common refrain like this one here, baby
Is prelude to another of your backhanded love songs
[Verse 8]
Now it's time for a handsome little bookend
Now it's time to tie up all the loose ends
Am I still skeptic or did you make me a believer?
If you hesitate, you'll hear the click of the receiver
Written by: Andrew Bird