Will Wood - Armchairs (Andrew Bird Cover) lyrics
[Will Wood - Armchairs Andrew Bird Cover lyrics]
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 brings
It's the one that everybody knows
Oh everybody knows the song that's silencing
And this, this is 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
Time is a crooked bow
Time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps
And pull like hell
Until 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 it's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow, oh, ooh
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
You didn't write, you didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all, hey
Through the waves, the waves of AM squall
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths, time
Fifty-five and three-eighths time, time
Of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
Of the tangles in your hair
I sang the song that silence brings
It's the one that everybody knows
Oh everybody knows the song that's silencing
And this, this is 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
Time is a crooked bow
Time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps
And pull like hell
Until 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 it's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow, oh, ooh
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
You didn't write, you didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all, hey
Through the waves, the waves of AM squall
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths, time
Fifty-five and three-eighths time, time