Brian McMahan - On the swing lyrics

We fall through the trees Arriving in the kitchen Too late for the stew We fall through the trees Arriving in the kitchen Too late for the stew Plucked clean Feathers beside Hands joined at the table I tuck them away Recline for the evening With papers so thin Offering explanations I know they're not true Take hold cause I'm near the loose one When the wind blows Our time has come