Armchair - Grant Lee Buffalo

You call me from your armchair with no will to be there

The weight of your armored suit so immense

Caught up in the turnstiles even talk becomes battle

Withdraw your only defense

I’ve held that emptiness

I’ve held it and I’ve made the same wish at times

To lunge headlong and out of reach

So bleak or bare I’ll hold you through each

Praying to the saints and now the candle is low

Regrets won’t hasten their remedy

Even when it’s awkward in the dull loss of words oh

Please don’t hide your sorrow from me

'Cause I’ve held oh that emptiness

I’ve held it and I’ve made the same wish at times

To lunge headlong and out of reach

So bleak or bare I’ll hold you through each

Hold you through each

Na na na

You call me from your armchair

Everyone’s been there once

I’ll be at your side when you’re needing someone