When I get home the key won’t turn the lock
The tumblers will rattle but none of them will drop
So I’ll stand in the yard like a grandfather clock
With a cracked eroded face telling the wrong time
And two useless hands frozen at my side
Pointing straight down, down, down
That’s where I’m gonna go
Straight down, like my hands already know
When I get home your face will be staring from the window
And though my pictures line the hallway you won’t recognize me
A flicker of déjà vu and back to a flickеring TV screen
A 24/7 marathon of static snow
In four years you haven’t missed an еpisode
Snow coming down, down, down
Like the voices of angels
Sent down relaying messages
In strange distorted languages
They might be telling you the time and place
That you’ll get sent up to the pearly gates
Or telling you you’re god’s mistake
So there’s no use praying for his grace
But you’d never know
Or maybe it’s a transmission
I sent long ago, now scrambled
Saying I love you and I’ll be home soon
But you’d never know
In a house with all the light eclipsed
By curtains, drapes, and plywood sheets
Where the TV makes the only noise
There’s a sealed-off room with dolls and toys
There are scribbled drawings on the fridge
Autographed by a phantom kid
Evidence there once was life
In this drywall corpse with it’s widowed wife
But with the airlock sealed
And radio contact lost
We can only pretend
That we aren’t here at all
The tumblers will rattle but none of them will drop
So I’ll stand in the yard like a grandfather clock
With a cracked eroded face telling the wrong time
And two useless hands frozen at my side
Pointing straight down, down, down
That’s where I’m gonna go
Straight down, like my hands already know
When I get home your face will be staring from the window
And though my pictures line the hallway you won’t recognize me
A flicker of déjà vu and back to a flickеring TV screen
A 24/7 marathon of static snow
In four years you haven’t missed an еpisode
Snow coming down, down, down
Like the voices of angels
Sent down relaying messages
In strange distorted languages
They might be telling you the time and place
That you’ll get sent up to the pearly gates
Or telling you you’re god’s mistake
So there’s no use praying for his grace
But you’d never know
Or maybe it’s a transmission
I sent long ago, now scrambled
Saying I love you and I’ll be home soon
But you’d never know
In a house with all the light eclipsed
By curtains, drapes, and plywood sheets
Where the TV makes the only noise
There’s a sealed-off room with dolls and toys
There are scribbled drawings on the fridge
Autographed by a phantom kid
Evidence there once was life
In this drywall corpse with it’s widowed wife
But with the airlock sealed
And radio contact lost
We can only pretend
That we aren’t here at all
( Novus spero )
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