[ATMOSPHERIC SYNTH WHINE WITH AN UNSTEADY, FLOATING ACOUSTIC ARPEGGIO] [VERSE 1] The needle jumps the track. The weight is slightly wrong. The coffee spills ahead. (A shifting floor.) The keys float off the ring. The gravity is thin. The curtains pull instead. (Toward the door.) [PRE-CHORUS] We grip the kitchen counter by the edge. Our slippers leave the lino for an inch. The world is tipping upward to the stars. We do not even flinch. [CHORUS] The ceiling is the floor today. The plumb line goes askew. The air is thin and violet. We float away from you. [VERSE 2] The water will not pour. It forms a perfect sphere. A marble in the room. (A liquid bead.) The garden fence is high. The soil begins to rise. The tulips start to bloom. (Without a seed.) [CHORUS] The ceiling is the floor today. The plumb line goes askew. The air is thin and violet. We float away from you. [BRIDGE] The birds are stuck in circles in the hedge. They cannot find the leverage to fly. The barometer is bottoming right out. A purple sort of sky. We drift across the hallway to the stairs. And bump into the dining room chairs. [LONG, DISORIENTING INSTRUMENTAL SHIFT WITH UNPREDICTABLE SYNTH CHORDS] [VERSE 3] The pressure hits the ears. The window glass is taut. A bubble about to burst. (The sealing cracks.) The compass points to south. The magnet has no pull. The alignment is reversed. (Across the tracks.) [CHORUS] The ceiling is the floor today. The plumb line goes askew. The air is thin and violet. We float away from you. [OUTRO - SLOWLY DECREASING TEMPO, SYNTHS DRIFTING AWAY] The weight is entirely gone. A quiet drift. Upward.
