From the album Terrestrials
This is about being stuck in a body that won't let you escape gravity or time. The narrator keeps repeating 'it's all good' like a mantra because nothing is actually good, and the only people who get free are the ones who've lost their minds or never had to use them in the first place.
Baby wanna be weightless / But it's a contract signed at birth
Wanting to escape your body is framed as a desire you agreed to before you could refuse. The 'contract' language turns existence into an obligation you can't get out of, no matter how badly you want to float away.
Only psychotics, infants, and lovers and saints
These are the only people who get to live outside linear time. Everyone else is trapped between dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, but the insane and the innocent somehow slip the trap.
Do your whiskers quiver with the promise of debris?
Addressing someone, maybe the woman from the chorus, as an animal sensitive to wreckage. It's tender and strange at once, like asking if she can smell disaster coming before it arrives.
All these things I carry in my / Poly-cotton sack / Way down on my heart / As they weigh down on my back
The cheap fabric detail makes the burden physical and pathetic at once. Not a leather bag or a noble burden. Just synthetic blend and too much weight.
Only psychotics, infants, and lovers and killers and mothers and sinners and saints
The list grows desperate, piling up everyone who might escape being terrestrial. By the end he's just naming anyone who feels things intensely enough to break the contract for a second.
The song ends still chanting 'terrestrials' over and over, like the word itself is the cage. Pond makes psychedelic rock, but this is the opposite of escape. It's about how even when you want to dissolve into sound and light, you're still just a person carrying too much shit in a cheap bag.