Cocoon

This cocoon caught in Vesuvius' shadow
 Only the ashes remain
 And I waited there for you
 Why couldn't you?
 Here we lie, waiting for something to startle
 To shake us from gravity's pull
 And so sleeping hours are through
 What can we do?
 The sorry conclusion, the low dirty war
 It happened before you came to
 But this is solution and this is amends
 The joke always tends to come true
 And there on your windowsill
 Over the unmoving platoon
 Written in paperback
 The view to the quarterback's room
 Under waning moon, this quiet serves only to hide you
 Provide you
 Well, I knew, well, I knew
 It'd come back to you
 Take this palm, follow the lines here are written
 Tracing the bends and the shapes
 And feel your fingers falling slack
 And all folding back
 The tainted election, the hole in the sky
 Command what is tried, what is true
 Without solution, with feet on the ground
 It won't make a sound 'till you're through
 So loosen your shoulder blades
 This is your hour to make due
 'Cause there, on the timberline
 Deep, cold November shines through
 Soft and absolute, this quiet serves only to hide you
 Provide in you
 Well, I knew, well, I knew
 It'd come back to you