I think that this song is as simple as it appears; it is about dying:
See I'm leaving – He is dying
This warehouse frightens me – Warehouse = life
Has me tied up in knots – He is afraid of what is happening
Can't rest for a moment – Although he is dying he doesn’t cease to be
Soon I'm going I'm slipping slow away – Slipping away = dying
Hoping to find something better – He is hoping he goes to Heaven
Than I've got inside of here - Heaven would be better than life
The warehouse slips away – He dies
Hey reckless mind – He is talking to himself
Don't throw away your playful beginnings – Don’t forget who you are
You and I will fumble around in the touches
And be sure to
Leave all the lights on
So we can see the black cat changing colors
And we can walk under ladders
And we can swim as the tide turns you around and around
Hey we have found
Becoming one in a million – So many are dead
Slip into the crowd – He is becoming nothing
This question I found in a gap in the sidewalk
Keep all your sights on
Hey the black cat changing colors
And you can walk under ladders
And swim as the tide choose to turn you
And here I sit – He is waiting to die
Life goes on – Even though he is dying, life goes on
End of tunnel, TV set – Tunnel being tied to a TV for the metaphor
Spot in the middle – A light at the end of a tunnel when the TV is turned off
Static fade, statistical bit – Nothing is real, no more pictures just static
And soon I'll fade away, I'll fade away – Talking about his death
This I admit tastes so good – It feels good to be done with it all
Hard to believe an end to it – Still dealing with the reality of dying
Smell touch feel – His senses are stopping
How could this rhythm ever quit – We don’t know anything else
Bags packed on a plane – He is ready to go, nothing left to do
Hopefully to heaven – Pretty self explanatory
Shut up I'm thinking – He is getting confused
I had a clue now it's gone forever – Doesn’t know if his beliefs are correct
Sitting over these bones – But when reflecting on spirituality…
You can read in whatever you're needing to – Believe what you need to
Keep all your sights on
Yeah man the black cat changing colors
When it's not the colors that matter
But that they'll all fade away
This I admit
Seems so good – Death isn’t so bad
Hard to believe an end to it – It is still really mind blowing (duh ;o)
Warehouse is bare – His life is finished
Nothing at all inside of it – No commitments, no attachments
The walls and halls have disappeared – Things are starting to fade
They disappear
My love I love to stay here – He will miss what he was attached to
My love I love to stay here
In a corner I was wondering – A part of his mind is still afraid
If a change would be better than this – He is worried about heaven and what is left for him
And then I worry
Maybe things won't be better than they have been – Maybe Hell, maybe nothing
Here in the warehouse – Life could be better than both
At the warehouse
How I love to stay here – He really did love life
At the warehouse
Every man and woman
Get alive
That's our blood down there
Seems poured from the hands of angels
But trickle into the ground
Leaves the warehouse bare and empty
And my heart's numbered beat – Numbered, as in it will stop
Still echo in this empty room – It is echoing because everything else is gone
And fear wells in me – Last thoughts
But nothing seems good enough to defend – It doesn’t matter, nothing he can do
So I am going away, I'm going away… - He is dead
I don’t know if this is even close to accurate, but it has always just seemed to fit fine.
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally the
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally the
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally dreamed our common end. Like a quizzical and surprised acknowledgement. The final paradox.
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally dreamed our common end. Like a quizzical and surprised acknowledgement. The final paradox.
I think that this song is as simple as it appears; it is about dying:
See I'm leaving – He is dying This warehouse frightens me – Warehouse = life Has me tied up in knots – He is afraid of what is happening Can't rest for a moment – Although he is dying he doesn’t cease to be Soon I'm going I'm slipping slow away – Slipping away = dying Hoping to find something better – He is hoping he goes to Heaven Than I've got inside of here - Heaven would be better than life The warehouse slips away – He dies
Hey reckless mind – He is talking to himself Don't throw away your playful beginnings – Don’t forget who you are You and I will fumble around in the touches And be sure to
Leave all the lights on So we can see the black cat changing colors And we can walk under ladders And we can swim as the tide turns you around and around
Hey we have found Becoming one in a million – So many are dead Slip into the crowd – He is becoming nothing This question I found in a gap in the sidewalk
Keep all your sights on Hey the black cat changing colors And you can walk under ladders And swim as the tide choose to turn you
And here I sit – He is waiting to die Life goes on – Even though he is dying, life goes on End of tunnel, TV set – Tunnel being tied to a TV for the metaphor Spot in the middle – A light at the end of a tunnel when the TV is turned off Static fade, statistical bit – Nothing is real, no more pictures just static And soon I'll fade away, I'll fade away – Talking about his death
This I admit tastes so good – It feels good to be done with it all Hard to believe an end to it – Still dealing with the reality of dying Smell touch feel – His senses are stopping How could this rhythm ever quit – We don’t know anything else Bags packed on a plane – He is ready to go, nothing left to do Hopefully to heaven – Pretty self explanatory
Shut up I'm thinking – He is getting confused I had a clue now it's gone forever – Doesn’t know if his beliefs are correct Sitting over these bones – But when reflecting on spirituality… You can read in whatever you're needing to – Believe what you need to
Keep all your sights on Yeah man the black cat changing colors When it's not the colors that matter But that they'll all fade away
This I admit Seems so good – Death isn’t so bad Hard to believe an end to it – It is still really mind blowing (duh ;o) Warehouse is bare – His life is finished Nothing at all inside of it – No commitments, no attachments The walls and halls have disappeared – Things are starting to fade They disappear
My love I love to stay here – He will miss what he was attached to My love I love to stay here In a corner I was wondering – A part of his mind is still afraid If a change would be better than this – He is worried about heaven and what is left for him And then I worry Maybe things won't be better than they have been – Maybe Hell, maybe nothing Here in the warehouse – Life could be better than both At the warehouse How I love to stay here – He really did love life At the warehouse Every man and woman Get alive
That's our blood down there Seems poured from the hands of angels But trickle into the ground Leaves the warehouse bare and empty And my heart's numbered beat – Numbered, as in it will stop Still echo in this empty room – It is echoing because everything else is gone And fear wells in me – Last thoughts But nothing seems good enough to defend – It doesn’t matter, nothing he can do So I am going away, I'm going away… - He is dead
I don’t know if this is even close to accurate, but it has always just seemed to fit fine.
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally the
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally the
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally dreamed our common end. Like a quizzical and surprised acknowledgement. The final paradox.
@randland great breakdown. Would just add a bit to the somewhat dramatic ending... "there's blood down there, seems poured by the hands of angels." This is the actual death he's been expecting. Here at last. And we are the very Angels who pour the blood that brings death about.. We, the divine beings who dreamed ourselves here, and who equally dreamed our common end. Like a quizzical and surprised acknowledgement. The final paradox.