The Crushening

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The Armchair Captains

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This man's on hold
Doesn't know his milk's got old
Warned through stories he's been told
Can't tell his luck from gold
Put that baby to bed
In Newton's cradle
Beware the omens said
You're not strong or stable

Though I cry through wetted smile
Earning the creative signs for one to behold
Black magic is tragic plastic cage
Subduing the depths of our depravity
Only gravity can be taller
But much smaller, I'm no baller

I'm the son of a man who's destined to fail
If only I could sail away from the weight of the world
Sailing away from the weight of the world
And I'm curled, and I'm up
And I'm down, and I'm out
And this is the last time I go round

I took your soul, oh wonderful you
The weight took its toll, so pondering true
The hand on the shoulder grows heavy
I'm not ready

I captured the flames of coals already burnt
Changing the face of the day to suit
The fleeting, deleting, competing hurt
Makes the inside go out, and the out as a shout
Before I flout the rules to abuse a mountain of the earth

The wellness of this hell, yes it's fallen from the sky
To die, and break free of my tarnished soul
Black magic is tragic plastic cage
And I'm curled, and I'm up
And I'm down, and I'm out
And this is the first time I go round

I took your soul, oh wonderful you
The weight took its toll, so pondering true
The hand on the shoulder grows heavy
I'm not ready

This man's on hold
Doesn't know his milk's got old
Warned through stories he's been told
Can't tell his luck from gold
Put that baby to bed
In Newton's cradle
Beware the omens said
You're not strong or stable

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