Cocoon - The Decemberists

this cocoon, caught in vesuvius' shadow

only the ashes remain

and i waited there for you

why couldn’t you?

here we lie waiting for somethig to startle

to shake us from gravity’s pull

and so the sleeping hours are through

what can we do?

the sorry conclusion, the low dirty war, it happened before you came to but this is solution, and this is amends

the joke always tends to come true

but there on your windowsill over the unmoving platoon

written in paperback, the view to the quarterback’s room

under waning moon

this quiet serves only to hide you

provide you

what i knew (x2)

it’d come back to you

take this palm, follow the lines here are written

tracing the veins and the shapes

and feel your fingers falling slack and all folding back

the tainted election, the hole in the sky

command what is tried, what is true

but without solution, with feet on the ground

it won’t make a sound 'til you’re through

so loosen your shoulderblades

this is your hour to make due

because there on the timberline

deep cold november shines through

soft and absolute

this quiet serves only to hide you

provide you

what i knew (x2)

it’d come back to you