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Silence... Lyrics
The silence between radiators and constellations takes place some three-odd dreams before a vacation.
Meeting gears clumsily detaching a man's hand in the dust crunching machine of an aspirin factory shift.
Adding their glued open eyes to the good Reverend Pitman's hard to find bird head collection.
Then, the dream trails off into long drawn-out conversations set in sickly lit hospital halls and over cleared tables in office space;
About Workers Comp. and what the headache folks are willing to give up in order to endure that today is the day that no one went bald.
Today is the day that no one went bald.
Today is the day that no one went bald.
That today is...
There's a brief intermission.
They offer you money for love and a popular song.
A lisence to pill and spare no expense in the supper with big Dr. Moon and Gun.
The dream ends in an extended stay America Kitchen,
you're beating eggs, you look down for the wisk, you see a sealed off wrist on repeat.
Completely destroying the snowglobe and a day begins before and during next...
Between space heaters and constellations.
And again from the bed with the boy in the absense of an absolute asprin.
There watching you through your bedroom window, a winter bee slurs its legs on a half-snipped sprig of barbed wire while you imagine page five gallons pouring pink into the center of clouds.
Or you.
Or the other way around.
Adding their glued open eyes to the good Reverend Pitman's hard to find bird head collection.
About Workers Comp. and what the headache folks are willing to give up in order to endure that today is the day that no one went bald.
Today is the day that no one went bald.
Today is the day that no one went bald.
That today is...
A lisence to pill and spare no expense in the supper with big Dr. Moon and Gun.
you're beating eggs, you look down for the wisk, you see a sealed off wrist on repeat.
Completely destroying the snowglobe and a day begins before and during next...
Between space heaters and constellations.
There watching you through your bedroom window, a winter bee slurs its legs on a half-snipped sprig of barbed wire while you imagine page five gallons pouring pink into the center of clouds.
Or you.
Or the other way around.
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
I wonder if this is about people's obsession with material things? I'm probably way off track here, but the Meeting Gears paragraph and the one below it might be something about people working in inhumane conditions just to make this Asprin...
On the other hand, that's only the first half of the song; and I cannot understand the second half atall. I reckon I've got it totally wrong, anyway.
I quite agree with the suggestion. The asprin is seemingly valued at no cost to it's workers, leading to union meetings of course.
Following the brief intermission, an offer is made. Money for love: To pretend to love the company, money Popular songs: Presumably an option for Radio, popular in union requests License to pill: Now you can make the asprins legally, presumably. Spare no expense in the endless supper with Dr. Moon & Gun: I enjoy this line the very most. Dr Moon being the night shift, and Dr. Gun being suicide- saying, pretty much, that you can work here and like it or kill yourself- Adding irony to the other offers and making them moot, and probably lies.
The dream ends, of course, and you are at home ready to go back to work to make more asprins. (Your dream ends where the song begins 'between space heaters and constellations' -At night in a run-down building with shoddy heating-)
The last paragraph suggests that, ironically, the asprin making requires hospital aide for the workers and there is no 'absolute asprin' to remedy the cost of labour to make them.
And, perhaps a somewhat obscure thought on my own part (and my own experience) I thought of 'pink' as always being Pepto-Bismol. That perhaps Pepto-Bismol being poured into the clouds will solve the problems of the world- perhaps pouring the drug into yourself will solve your own problems.
Of, of course, the other way around.
So great, nice interps guys. I used to think where he said in the second paragraph, Today is the day that no one 'resolved'. Brilliant, tight, song.