Arc of Time (Time Code) Bright Eyes

You can make a plan, carve it into stone
Like a feather falling, it is still unknown
Until the clock speaks up, says it's time to go
You could choose the high or the lower road

You might clench your fist, you might fork your tongue
As you curse or praise all the things you've done
And the faders move and the music dies
As we pass over on the arc of time

So you nurse your love like a wounded dove
In the covered cage of night
Every star is crossed by frenetic thoughts
That separate and then collide

And they twist like sheets 'til you fall asleep
And they finally unwind
It's a black balloon
It's a dream you'll soon deny

I hear if you make friends with Jesus Christ
You will get right up from that chalk outline
And then you'll get dolled up and you'll dress in white
All to take your place in his chorus line

And then in you'll come with those marching drums
In a saintly compromise
No more whiskey slurs, no more blonde-haired girls
For your whole eternal life