Lets go back to a hundred years before you or I was born and then grew
up, backwards to a place where Im sitting now. Ten feet above the old
dirt floor, on an armchair, by the loft of a peasant barn I see daily life as
it was back then. A boy, great-grandfather to me now, climbs a wooden ladder
to the loft. I recline sideways, looking at him rise to the upper chambers of
the barn. Tall as me now, climbing that ladder from the ground.
Armchair, armchair, take me back to now!
We all share this world
Hello son, its great-granddad again, this whole world is gonna
blow
Nobody knows, nobody is aware, it wont, it wont show
We all lived for today, with peace and happiness along the way
I dont know where we went wrong now
Now
Its gone wrong from the negligence, that old ladders worn from feet and then
Its only boards, were only men, yet together we ascend
Down, down down, that old ladders breaking down
Dont we all grow slower through the days?
Lets go back to a hundred years ago, backwards to that ladder and that
loft. A place that was young and innocent; great-grandpa as a boy washing in
the trough. My armchair plush and extravagant compared to the lowliness of the
barn. Yet the boy is happy, I am not, and you cant cure the cold if
its the flu youve got. Staring at the child with open eyes, through
the generations my armchair flies. After understanding time on a greater scale,
I thank the little boy for what hed done, telling me that life should
be carefree, showing me that joy cant be bought.
Armchair, armchair, take me back to now!
We all share this world
I dont know where we went wrong, but the structure of the ladder isnt strong
Somebody told me that loft was gonna come down one day
The world is full of lonely people searching for that loft and finding lies
If theyd... only thake a look theyd find ladder sitting right before their eyes
How... how
Its gone wrong from the negligence, that old ladders worn from feet and then
Its only boards, were only men, yet together we ascend
Down, down down, that old ladders breaking down
Dont we all grow taller through the days?
Lets go back to the present day: great-grandfather is weak and wont live long. On the armchair in front of his deathbead I remember stories that he told. Ohh, now he climbs that ladder to the loft, departing from this world on a chair of fire. I recline sideways, imagining him rise to the upper chambers of the barn. In glory now, climbing that old ladder from the ground.
Down by great-grandfathers house, we sat by the bulldog mill and we knew that these were the best times
Climbing that old ladder bare, with great-grandpa standing there, we knew this couldnt last for long
Down, down down, that old ladders breaking down
Dont we all grow older through the days?
Amen