In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
A daydream spills from my corked head
Breaks free of my wooden neck
Left a nod over sleeping waves
Like bobbing bait for bathing cod
Floating flocks of candled swans
Slowly drift across wax ponds
The men all played along to marching drums
And boy did they have fun behind the sea
They sang (hey)
So our matching legs are marching clocks
And we're all too small to talk to god
Yes, we're all too smart to talk to god
Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs
To us from the dock
Jinxed things ringing as they leak
Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk
Scarecrow, now it's time to hatch
Sprouting suns and ageless daughters
Don't you know, don't you know
That those watermelon smiles
Just can't ripen underwater
Just can't ripen underwater
The men all played along to marching drums
And boy did they have fun behind the sea
They sang (hey)
So our matching legs are marching clocks
And we're all too small to talk to god
Yeah, we're all too smart to talk to god
Oh, we're all too smart to talk to god
Oh, legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Oh, so close
Breaks free of my wooden neck
Left a nod over sleeping waves
Like bobbing bait for bathing cod
Floating flocks of candled swans
Slowly drift across wax ponds
The men all played along to marching drums
And boy did they have fun behind the sea
They sang (hey)
So our matching legs are marching clocks
And we're all too small to talk to god
Yes, we're all too smart to talk to god
Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs
To us from the dock
Jinxed things ringing as they leak
Through tiny cracks in the boardwalk
Scarecrow, now it's time to hatch
Sprouting suns and ageless daughters
Don't you know, don't you know
That those watermelon smiles
Just can't ripen underwater
Just can't ripen underwater
The men all played along to marching drums
And boy did they have fun behind the sea
They sang (hey)
So our matching legs are marching clocks
And we're all too small to talk to god
Yeah, we're all too smart to talk to god
Oh, we're all too smart to talk to god
Oh, legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs
Waves of wooden legs
Oh, so close
Lyrics submitted by savourflavour
Behind the Sea Lyrics as written by George Ross Brendon Urie
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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