One day we all wake to find
Fishbowl rocks in our right front pocket
And a movie ticket stub
From the local morgue
Kept safe there in the other
And when you stop to read
you have to leave a rock
Convincing
living human remains
that you yourself
are convinced of living human beings
or do your arms just jut from the wide side
of an interior wall
fast can
top of the beat
loose hands never damned them
not even in dreams are you
no longer the propmaster
cleaning up fake blood between shots
coming home feeling dirty
from a long night of nearly being yourself
and you see
these have been things sung that will never be songs…
are you not clear-skulled?
in froze lake, all sun-starved and american
classic heart held out in a separable palm
holding your...
…breath against a still fleshed chest full of ‘should bes’
You see how ever so slightly permanent
These are then things sung that’ll never be songs
Never more wet concrete
though song street
This is not more wet concrete the soul
Song street now not swan concrete
Now swan song
on
2
3
Now not more raw wheat
are you not clear-skulled?
Never more concrete not song not more raw wheat
not song not more swanmeat
never more concrete not song not more raw wheat
not swan not more song meat
song swan…
a frozen is solved
by all means...
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
One day we all wake to find
Fishbowl rocks in our right front pocket
And a movie ticket stub
From the local morgue
Kept safe there in the other
And when you stop to read (this’ll never be)
you have to leave a rock (this’ll never be)
Convincing (this’ll never be)
living human remains (this’ll never be)
that you yourself (this’ll never be)
are convinced of living human beings (this’ll never be)
Never more wet concrete the soul
song street now not swan concrete never meat
not swan skull meat not poor song meat
not swan
not more raw wheat
not
(not concrete, not swan meat, more raw wheat...into indistinction…)
Fishbowl rocks in our right front pocket
And a movie ticket stub
From the local morgue
Kept safe there in the other
you have to leave a rock
Convincing
living human remains
that you yourself
are convinced of living human beings
of an interior wall
fast can
top of the beat
loose hands never damned them
not even in dreams are you
no longer the propmaster
coming home feeling dirty
from a long night of nearly being yourself
and you see
these have been things sung that will never be songs…
in froze lake, all sun-starved and american
classic heart held out in a separable palm
holding your...
You see how ever so slightly permanent
These are then things sung that’ll never be songs
Never more wet concrete
though song street
This is not more wet concrete the soul
Song street now not swan concrete
Now swan song
on
2
3
Now not more raw wheat
not song not more swanmeat
never more concrete not song not more raw wheat
not swan not more song meat
by all means...
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
who is the propmaster?
Fishbowl rocks in our right front pocket
And a movie ticket stub
From the local morgue
Kept safe there in the other
you have to leave a rock (this’ll never be)
Convincing (this’ll never be)
living human remains (this’ll never be)
that you yourself (this’ll never be)
are convinced of living human beings (this’ll never be)
song street now not swan concrete never meat
not swan skull meat not poor song meat
not swan
not more raw wheat
not
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
Sorry to say I have no clue what this means, but I'll do what everyone else does and comment on how cool the song actually is.
This was the first song I ever heard by these guys, when they opened for Tv on the Radio. Needless to say, they blew my mind and have been a household name around my and my friends...homes.
This song seems to be about 'you'- a person living in a metaphorical fishbowl. The owner of the fishbowl is the propmaster of life- yours included. You think it's you, naturally.
You are like every other person pretending to be in charge of your own life. Except you are blinded by your beauty in a world of fakes (convincing human remains that you are convinced of living human beings). You have made yourself into a 'swan' amongst ducks, if you will. Yet, because you live in a fishbowl, you cannot escape the fakes, or even comprehend who is fake. And, naturally, your narcissm is so inherantly wrong, that you indeed are the swan's meat: no better off than the raw meat of ducks you despise, in the end.
I believe, by this, subtle is trying to ask even the most wealthy person if they are ultimately happier when they are the sucessful, self claimed 'swan', or if it would be better to discover who the real 'propmaster' is.