I reach for the elm tree branch. I'm floating away and I'm wishing for gravity to reassert its strong hold, to demand my descent, to return me to the cement. I glide above fallow fields, foggy and brown. I'm too far too reach the ground.

I look to the western skies at the eye of the storm. The clouds, they have all been deformed by a funnel cloud which takes all that it finds and spits it out. I'm up in the atmosphere. I'm gasping for air. The cumulus doesn't care to put me down on my two feet on terra firma.

I'm alone up here and ascending. My humor's depending on how far I'm ending from home. Ever since the land broke off its vow and the tree broke off its bough it's all too far below now and the streets are all string-thin lines.

I hover above the brush, the foliage and grass. You're struggling into the pass, and there is a great wide space 'tween mountains and sky, too far for the naked eye. I reach for your hand once more across the divide and once more I am denied — for you cannot hear my voice way up in the sky, and you don't hear me cry, you feel the damping droplets fall into your hair as rain.

Now I'm not trying to milk my emotion just to fill up your ocean with my tears like a potion to drug your mind my way. Long ago I once loved your reaction to such far-flung abstraction, but afflicted with faction we were, two parts broken, two hearts broken away.

Lyrics submitted by delial

Gravity Of The Situation song meanings
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