Story: The Chair Behind the Eyes
Verse 1
I know there is no little one
who lives behind my face
no captain at the window
no owner of this place
I know the thoughts arrive alone
the breath is breathing free
but still there is a centre here
that feels exactly me
A pressure in the forehead
a border made of skin
a feeling that the world is out
and someone sits within
the teaching says there’s no one there
but still the old disguise
looks like an empty wooden chair
somewhere behind the eyes
Chorus
There’s a chair behind the eyes
but no one sitting there
just pressure, thought, and memory
a body in the air
there’s a centre that is felt
but feeling is not proof
the shape of me can still appear
without becoming truth
Let it stay
let it rise
the empty chair
behind the eyes
Verse 2
I tried to make the feeling leave
I tried to lose the claim
I watched the one who watched the thoughts
and gave the watcher names
I made the absence into work
I made the truth a test
and built another manager
to clear away the rest
But the one who tried to end the self
was thought and tension too
another image passing through
another thing life knew
the centre did not need to die
or vanish from the skies
it only needed to be seen
as a chair behind the eyes
Chorus
There’s a chair behind the eyes
but no one sitting there
just pressure, thought, and memory
a body in the air
there’s a centre that is felt
but feeling is not proof
the shape of me can still appear
without becoming truth
Let it stay
let it rise
the empty chair
behind the eyes
Bridge
The pressure can be noticed
the boundary can be known
the thought that says “I’m watching”
does not watch all on its own
the observer is observed here
the witness too appears
the one who claims the laughter
comes after laughter clears
The body needs a here and there
a road, a hand, a door
but practical location
does not make a separate core
the character may carry on
the word “I” may survive
but nothing stands outside the whole
to own this moving life
Verse 3
So when the centre gathers
and the world seems far away
I do not chant “there is no self”
or force the shape to sway
I feel the face, the chest, the throat
the leaning into sight
the little map that puts me here
and places there the night
And every part is happening
each one is passing through
the sense that I am someone
is something happening too
no need to burn the furniture
or tear away disguise
just notice no one occupies
the chair behind the eyes
Final Chorus
There’s a chair behind the eyes
but no one sitting there
just pressure, thought, and memory
a body in the air
there’s a centre that is felt
but feeling is not proof
the shape of me can still appear
without becoming truth
Let it stay
let it rise
no hidden self
no grand disguise
just life appearing
in this size
and an empty chair
behind the eyes
Outro
Seeing happens
thought replies
“I am seeing”
then it flies
Body here
and evening skies
no one seated
behind the eyes
