I dreamed you were a cosmonaut
Of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
Of the tangles in your hair
I sang the song that silence brings
It's the one that everybody knows, everybody knows
The song that silence sings
And this, this is how it goes
These looms that weave apocrypha
They're hanging from a strand
This dark and empty rooms were full
Of incandescent hands
Awkward pause, the fatal flaw
Time, it's a crooked bow
Time is a crooked bow
Time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps and pull like hell
Until gravity feels sorry for you and lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know, oh
The way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this low
Time, time it's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow, oh, ooh
Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of this gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah, this armchair calls to you
And it says that someday we'll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
Through the ragweed and barbed wire, oh
You didn't write, you didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all, hey
Through the waves, the waves of hay and straw
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths, time
Fifty-five and three-eighths time, time
Of the space between our chairs
And I was a cartographer
Of the tangles in your hair
I sang the song that silence brings
It's the one that everybody knows, everybody knows
The song that silence sings
And this, this is how it goes
These looms that weave apocrypha
They're hanging from a strand
This dark and empty rooms were full
Of incandescent hands
Awkward pause, the fatal flaw
Time, it's a crooked bow
Time is a crooked bow
Time you need to learn to love
The ebb just like the flow
Grab hold of your bootstraps and pull like hell
Until gravity feels sorry for you and lets you go
As if you lack the proper chemicals to know, oh
The way it felt the last time you let yourself fall this low
Time, time it's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow
Time's a crooked bow, oh, ooh
Fifty-five and three-eighths years later
At the bottom of this gigantic crater
An armchair calls to you
Yeah, this armchair calls to you
And it says that someday we'll get back at them all
With epoxy and a pair of pliers
As ancient sea slugs begin to crawl
Through the ragweed and barbed wire, oh
You didn't write, you didn't call
It didn't cross your mind at all, hey
Through the waves, the waves of hay and straw
You couldn't feel a thing at all
Fifty-five and three-eighths, time
Fifty-five and three-eighths time, time
Lyrics submitted by bobwronski
Armchairs Lyrics as written by Andrew Wegman Bird
Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I think y'all are too quick to dismiss the idea of the crooked bow referring to a bow tie. As with many of Mr. Bird's lyrics, it draws strength from having multiple interpretations at once. Especially given the lyrical context of the first "crooked bow" reference--an awkward pause and a fatal flaw--a crooked bow tie fits perfectly. A crooked bow tie carries the connotation of an embarrassing mistake, as well as the idea of being haggardly and disheveled, both connotations which fit in nicely with the temporal reflective nature of the song, surveying the wreckage (or gigantic crater) of one's life from the weariness of old age (when armchairs call to you).
A crooked bow--as in the device for launching an arrow--sort of works, but "crooked" is not the best adjective for the meaning that's being read into it. "Crooked" is not the same as "bent." Crooked implies imperfection and uneven zig-zags, maybe even age, whereas a bent bow implies tension and potentiality. Possibly a crooked bow would be one that doesn't shoot straight. A crooked arrow would make sense, but have yet another meaning.
I like the idea of a crooked violin bow, showing the wear and tear of age.
But in conclusion I don't think it's impossible that Andrew Bird intentionally crafted the lyrics to have concurrent interpretations.
sorry. short but sweet... still working a bit...<br /> <br /> I agree that the time is a crooked bow lyric can indeed carry several meanings. And the brillance of said lyric is that is can indeed shift and change over time, becoming its own manifestation. It can shift to be a cooked or bent arrow, perhaps suggesting a Jacksonian Trail of Tears, or a crooked bow tie eluding to an old-fashioned courting ritual... you know the magical ones of your grandparents during WWII.mmmmmm... I'll save that story for later, it's a little off point here.
I was talking to a friend about this song, and she pointed out that if the crooked bow were a bow of the sort tied over the wrapping paper around a gift it would make a cute little pun... time is the crooked bow on the present. (Get it? Present? Tehe...)
So that would mean there is no time like the present? Or Time is a gift mayhap?<br /> <br /> Or in conjuntion with being a cartographer to someone's hair-- the bow could be the crooked hair bow of a wpman, signifying the passing of time as she ages trying to keep a part of her youth; but her attempts are a little askew.<br /> <br /> And we haven't even begun to explore the concept of it being the crooked bow of a ship... I guess because he says bow and not bow as in bough we know it's not that...<br /> doh.<br /> nice tangets Thriggle!