Bright Eyes "At the Bottom of Everything" paroles

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At the Bottom of Everything

So there was this woman and she was on an airplane, and she was flying to meet her fiancé seaming high above the largest ocean on planet earth. She was seated next to this man she had tried to start conversations, but the only thing she had really heard him say was to order his Bloody Mary. She was sitting there and she was reading this really arduous magazine article about a third world country that she couldn’t even pronounce the name of. And she was feeling very bored and despondent. And then suddenly there was this huge mechanical failure and one of the engines gave out, and they started just falling thirty-thousand feet, and the pilots on the microphone and he’s saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh my god... I'm sorry” and apologizing. And she looks at the man and says “Where are we going?” and he looks at her and he says “We’re going to a party. It’s a birthday party. It’s your birthday party. Happy birthday darling. We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much.” And then he starts humming this little tune, it kind of goes like this: 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4

We must talk in every telephoneGet eaten off the webWe must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have readAnd in the face of every criminalStrapped firmly to a chairWe must stare, we must stare, we must stare

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sellSet fire to the preacher who is promising us hellAnd in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dreamWe must sing, we must sing, we must sing

It’ll go like this:

While my mother waters plantsMy father loads his gunsHe says death will give us back to GodJust like this setting sun is returned to this lonesome ocean

And then they splashed into the deep blue seaIt was a wonderful splash

We must blend into the choirSing as static with the wholeWe must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soulAnd in this endless race for property and privilege to be wonWe must run, we must run, we must run

We must hang up in the belfryWhere the bats and moonlight laughWe must stare into a crystal ball and only see the pastAnd in the caverns of tomorrowWith just our flashlights and our loveWe must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge

And then we’ll get down there, way down to the very bottom of everythingAnd then we’ll see it, oh we’ll see it, we’ll see it, we’ll see it

Oh my morning's coming backThe whole world’s waking upAll the city buses swimming pastI’m happy just becauseI found out I am really no one

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