“It’s good enough to make you think, “I bet this is about something else. What is he really talking about? No one has THAT nice of a chair.”
-Understandable response to this masterpiece
BUT……
It is a song about a literal chair. My drafting chair
I just thought, now is the time to start writing the material required for living life as a professional beachside guitarist. So that when the time comes I can move right into being homeless by the beach with no problems.
Lyrics
And I stood there bare in the siftin' sands Once had a chair, it slipped through my hands Now it's just me and the endless tan Oh where'd it go, my seaside stand? Have you seen it, it used to be here Left me solo with guitar and a tear Some say it wandered, off to the dunes Where the waves whisper, and the seagull croons With every tide that's drawn in and out It's like it vanished, just left me to doubt Oh I'm standin', guitar in my hand Barefoot and broken, where I used to stand So if you see it, that runaway seat Tell it I'm stranded here with these two bare feet Lonesome strummin', in the salty air Longing for the chair that left me in despair I'm mad, I'm sad, I'm singin' to the sky Wond'rin' how a chair just gets up and says goodbye