Bm I dreamed you were a cosmonautEm D Em Of the space between our chairsBm And I was a cartographerEm D Em Of the tangles in your hairEm I sang the song that silence bringsG It's the one that everybody knowsBm Yah, everybody knows the song that silence singsG D And this is how it goesBm These looms that weave apocryphaEm D Em They're hanging from a strandBm These dark and empty rooms are fullEm D Em Of incandescent handsEm Awkward pauseEm Fatal flawsEm G And time, it's a crooked bowG Time’s a crooked bowG In time you need to learn to loveEm D The ebb just like the flowEm Am Em Bm Grab hold of your bootstraps, and pull like hellA# C Till gravity feels sorry for you, and lets you goC A# As if you lack the proper chemicals to knowC A A# The way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this lowA# Dm Time, time it’s a crooked bowA# Time's a crooked bowDm Time's a crooked bowC A# OhA# C Fifty-five and three-eighths years laterA# Am At the bottom of this gigantic craterA# C An armchair calls to youA# Yeah, this armchair calls to youA# And it says, I think 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 wireA# You didn't writeAm You didn't callA# Cm C Dm It didn't cross your mind at allDm Through the wavesC The waves of AM squallCm Dm You couldn't feel a thing at allDm Fifty-five and three-eighthsA# TimeDm Fifty-five and three-eighthsA# TimeDm TimeA# Dm Time
Armchairs
Andrew Bird
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Tom: