The Man who Turned Into a Chair

When I was a boy
I couldn't stop running
I ran just to feel the wind in my face
Then one day I said
I'm tired of running
I think I might try
Staying in one place for a while

He slipped off his Oxfords and picked up the crossword
The man who turned into a chair
He loosened his belt and he cursed second helpings
The man who turned into a chair
Out there was disorder, in here all was good
A fine blend of corduroy, leather and woord
And as evening slipped in, his mind started drifting
The man who turned into a chair

I'd like to come back
Come back as a martin
The martins that fly
Down by the lock
And if I come back
Come back as a martin
I'll swoop but I'll dive
I'll never stop
No, I'll never, ever stop

The change did not scare him, he'd rather stopped caring
The man who turned into a chair
A fusing of diverse and disparate fibres
The man who turned into a chair
His wife didn't notice 'till it was too late
And she could no longer differentiate
'Tween husband and wing-back, oh please, someone bring back
My man, he's turned into a chair

Here I am
Where?
Here

It cradled his thighs and it coddled his soul
No one was surprised when it swallowed him whole
There's no return when you're part of the furniture
The man who turned into a chair
The man who turned into a chair