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For The Captain Lyrics
I.
Relax, no song is written,
nothing you thought of yourself.
It's just a ghost
that came unbidden
to this house.
This infection grows stronger every year,
this seed inside the water of your tear.
There is no escaping it.
This seed blooming in the water of your tear
the way an unborn baby's ear unfolds in your belly.
This infection grows stronger every year,
this direction of a tear rolling down your cheek,
there is no escaping it.
There is no escaping
the thing that is making its home in your radio.
II.
Bless this tiny alley
we have fallen from tall buildings
we have fallen
bless the birth of him
the chapel he was killed in
all these tiny flowers
they have sat under the sidewalk
they have waited for the pieces
of the summer sun to show us
all that is your beauty and
all that is your treasure
I could smell your skin beside me
say I hope I'm here forever
but captain with your lovers
with your list of favorite pillows
with your favorite list of children
and the wall where you drew windows
overlooking tiny gardens
cut in two by jagged mountains
and the secret sacred sharing
that went on beside the fountain
where the water waits forever
for a tiny tiny treasure
that will rise up and recover
that will leave this tiny alley
when you meet me in the garden
with your wings all dipped in cedar
all these spirits brushing past me
brushing past me in the ether
say "all this is window dressing
all you are is flimsy curtains
you will flame up with a word from us
and won't know that you're burning."
Relax, no song is written,
nothing you thought of yourself.
It's just a ghost
that came unbidden
to this house.
This infection grows stronger every year,
this seed inside the water of your tear.
There is no escaping it.
This seed blooming in the water of your tear
the way an unborn baby's ear unfolds in your belly.
This infection grows stronger every year,
this direction of a tear rolling down your cheek,
there is no escaping it.
There is no escaping
the thing that is making its home in your radio.
Bless this tiny alley
we have fallen from tall buildings
we have fallen
bless the birth of him
the chapel he was killed in
all these tiny flowers
they have sat under the sidewalk
they have waited for the pieces
of the summer sun to show us
all that is your beauty and
all that is your treasure
I could smell your skin beside me
say I hope I'm here forever
but captain with your lovers
with your list of favorite pillows
with your favorite list of children
and the wall where you drew windows
overlooking tiny gardens
cut in two by jagged mountains
and the secret sacred sharing
that went on beside the fountain
where the water waits forever
for a tiny tiny treasure
that will rise up and recover
that will leave this tiny alley
when you meet me in the garden
with your wings all dipped in cedar
all these spirits brushing past me
brushing past me in the ether
say "all this is window dressing
all you are is flimsy curtains
you will flame up with a word from us
and won't know that you're burning."
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This is my favorite Okkervil song by far... There seems to be several versions of this song though?
There is no escaping the thing that is making its home in your radio.
Ugh too beautiful
This song was reworked on the Black Sheep Boy Appendix EP, and titled "Another Radio Song". He changed some of the lyrics.
Any idea what "the thing that is making its home in your radio" is? He refers to it in more than one song...
i love this song soo soo much. i wana hear "another radio song"
Is it just me, or does it seem that this has a lot of angelic imagery, and the rewrite seems to be for demons? The second verses in either one seem to be kind of religiously inclined, but to opposite ends of the spectrum.
Well, as you get older, more and more the radio is evocative of past times, past relationships, past homes. At least for me - "the radio" shifts from being past of a "now" that you're living to a window on a "then" that you can't recapture. At least this is the case for me, and i'd imaging it's even moreso for a singer/songwriter.