Armchairs

I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
of the tangles in your hair

I sang the song that silence sings
It's the one, that everybody knows
oh everybody knows the song
that silence sings
And this, this was how it goes

These looms that weave apocrypha
they're hanging from a strand
These dark and empty rooms were full
of incandescent hands

Awkward pause
The fatal flaw, time
It's a crooked bow
Oh time is a crooked bow
Time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps
Oh and pull like hell
'til gravity feels sorry for you
And lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know, oh
the way it felt the last time you let yourself
fall this, low, time

Time's a crooked bow (x3)

Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of this gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah this armchair calls to you
And it says that someday
we'll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
through the ragweed and barbed wire

Oh no!
You didn't write
You didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all
Yeah through the waves
the waves of AM squall
You couldn't feel a thing at all
You're fifty-five and three-eighths
Tall
Fifty-five and three-eighths
Tall (x3)