A Gun in the First Act

Reflections on Life's Illusions
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Lyrics

I saw you standing with a broken cigarette out in the rain.

I observed you standing in the rain with a broken cigarette.

I guess all our lives are a little less than they seem.

Our lives are often not as fulfilling as they appear.

Now you're praying to the memory of a god you use to love

Now you're praying to a god you once loved, reminiscing about him.

(A reminder of his death hanging low around your neck.)

A reminder of his death is prominently displayed around your neck.

Do you find sleep comes easy

Are you able to sleep peacefully while grappling with emptiness?

Dancing with the empty silhouette of everything?

Dancing with the empty outline of everything.

Our waking lives are just the dreams of our dreams.

Our waking lives are merely the dreams of our dreams.

Standing in the city asking what it's all for but

Questioning the purpose of life while standing in the city.

There's nothing in this world that giving meaning makes it more:

Nothing in this world gains significance through our attempts to give it meaning.

The louder the ring, the less the thing.

The more attention or importance we assign, the less meaningful it becomes.


When we see black clouds coming over our heads,

Recognizing impending difficulties when ominous black clouds appear.

Over our heads, then we know where it's ending;

We understand where it's heading when these clouds loom.

A loaded gun hanging over our heads,

A potential danger or threat hanging over us.

We already know the way it ends.

We are already familiar with how it will conclude.


Screaming from a stage or at a pay-phone in the rain

Expressing emotions, whether from a stage or a payphone, in the rain.

Trying to find the words I always think I need to say.

Attempting to articulate words deemed necessary but elusive.

Please, bring it back to the moment before you left

Pleading to return to the moment before departure.

I never felt the sting.

Not having felt the pain of separation.

The louder the ring, the less the thing.

The more attention or importance we assign, the less meaningful it becomes (repeated).

Break, break, break it down

Breaking down the situation.

Back to the way that it was before

Returning to the past when symbols were not threatening, and clouds were not symbolic.

When symbols weren't just loaded guns

When symbols were not dangerous weapons.

And black clouds weren't just metaphors

When ominous clouds were not symbolic representations.

Bring, bring, bring it back

Bringing back the situation to how it was before.

Back to the way that it was before:

Returning to the past state where symbols and metaphors were not loaded.

Empty all the loaded guns and bury all the metaphors.

Removing the danger from symbols and burying metaphors.

Now we're going around in a place that makes no sound,

Existing in a place of silence where names do not fit.

Where names never fit and

Names are inadequate, and

Nothing ever means a thing.

Nothing holds any inherent meaning.

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