[The Weight of the Pendulum] [Verse 1] I turn the brass handle and push the heavy door, The sunlight cuts a line across the wooden floor. A layer of grey dust on the leather chair, Old tobacco scent stays frozen in the air. I pass by the table where the tea turned cold, Watching shadows stretch as the day grows old. [Chorus 1] Strange to find the quiet heavier than the sound, The missing pieces are the only things I’ve found. The beauty of the ending and the ache of what was true, The long and lonely lesson of living without you. [Verse 2] Curtains haven’t moved since the window shut, Reading glasses rest upon a paper cut. The calendar is open on a Tuesday in July, Underneath the ceiling where the cobwebs fly. The rhythm in the corner is wavering and slow, The light is slowly fading with nowhere left to go. [Chorus 2] Strange to find the quiet heavier than the sound, The missing pieces are the only things I’ve found. The beauty of the ending and the ache of what was true, The long and lonely lesson of living without you. [Bridge] By the wall, the mahogany pendulum swings, Waiting for the end that the final second brings. It wobbles for a moment, then shudders to a halt, Heartbeat of the house locked in a silent vault. The rhythm is broken and the ticking starts to die, Leaving only stillness underneath the sky. [Verse 3] The air is perfectly still in an empty frame, Dust settles down on the letters of a name. I touch the cold glass where the hands won’t move, Caught inside the hollow of a narrow groove. The silence isn't empty; it's a burden and a grace, Leaving all the memories in this quiet place. [Final Chorus] Strange to find the quiet heavier than the sound, The missing pieces are the only things I’ve found. The beauty of the ending and the ache of what was true, The long and lonely lesson of living without you. [Outro] A heavy kind of silence where the music used to be, Ghostly stillness holds the things I cannot see. The mahogany is quiet now. The room is finally still.
