(1)
The news came down today.
A ragamuffin's heart and a charlatan's way
of saying "Goodbye."
Of course it doesn't matter in the end.
It seems that what you spend is all you've got.
(Chorus 1)
And what a shame, at the close of the day,
to be nothing more than the one-armed man.
Living your life, passing through time,
only to find when everything's done
and the curtain comes falling down
that for good or bad
you'll only be remembered
for the one thing you don't have.
It's so apocryphal.
(2)
"The best is yet to come." Or so they say.
But one way or another there's never
an end to what resolved itself through fire--
just burnt ashes and the smell of endings
hanging on a wire, left undone.
(Chorus 2)
And what a laugh, at the close of the day,
to be nothing more than the one-armed man.
Passing your time, living your life,
always to find when everything's done
and the curtain comes tumbling down
that for better or worse
you'll only be remembered
for all you no longer have.
It's so apocryphal.
(Bridge)
When everything's for nothing
and nothing's for the good of it all,
burning bridges on the river
that runs through the tide of time.
Clouds of smoke,
blood on water,
twisted memories of those days
and all the ways I could have
bent like a tree in the wind,
holding ground, and rustling leaves,
losing limbs like bridges slowly falling down.
All falling down.
Just falling down....
(3)
There's a phantom feeling that comes in time,
when what's no longer yours still hangs on.
It's in the hours when the night falls darkly down,
before you're ready for the lowlight scenes.
Another drink thrown back and gone. It's all gone.
(Chorus 3)
And it's okay, at the close of the day,
to be nothing more than the one-armed man.
Pissing away time, playing at your life,
hoping to find when everything's done
and the curtain comes crashing down
that there was no other way
but to only be remembered
for what you never really had.
And it's oh-so-apocryphal.
Yeah, it's always apocryphal.
In the end, it's so goddamned apocryphal.
