"Meanwhile In A Parallel" lyrics

He couldn't quite believe what his days had come to
When he glanced back at the desert and the dead flies in Milan
And the way they creased like sofas crease like clowns
He was a giant with the world above, but all came crashing down

Crashing down

Now he jet sets in an atlas, taking notes, refers to Good Old Days
Looks down at a bug and whispers that old idiom for past time's sake
Walking like a cowboy, but his horse is comatose
He and that horse, like bad and worse, are not so different, I suppose

And all at once he flips the table
And he send his pages flying
And it occurs to him he gets
The goldest-est for dying

Meanwhile in a parallel

Meanwhile, in a parallel
He deliberates the hasn't been
And he too sits, makes notes
They're all pertaining to himself
And how the opposite of living
Isn't death, it is existing
He almost grieves the loss of absence
That would have followed his persisting

In perpetual engagement
With a joke that left him laughless
Bereft of any buoyancy
Terminating thereafter

Meanwhile in a parallel
Meanwhile in a parallel
Meanwhile in a parallel
Meanwhile in a parallel