[[ An ambiguous song about an ambiguous persona imagining a home he (could be she) used to know. Someone else is in the home now. A feeling of dispossession, real or imagined, some sort of revenge planned or fantasized. Fire and smoke imagery, maybe imagining the old chimney smoking, maybe imagining arson, maybe just a crazy phone call, maybe all in his head. The old phone is there for strangeness and to evoke an old time, dialing the number like a secret combination on a safe, with the phone's "cradle" doing double duty for imagery. Senses (taste and smell, fingers, warming, creaking) to introduce an uneasy nearness. And is he thinking of someone else (an invader? just a new owner) in his old home -- or is that "someone" just the persona sneaking back and creepily intruding in (calling on) his old home? It's coming from inside the house! Or not. ]]
smoke will be coiling
over our old home
sparks will be floating
floating on air
someone feels like he belongs now
in our old home
someone tastes the fruit still growing
in our garden
someone smells the flowers planted
by our mother
smoke will be coiling
over our old home
sparks will be floating
floating on air
someone opens creaking cupboards
in our kitchen
someone warms his chilly fingers
round our fire
someone feels like he belongs now
in our old home
now I am calling
dialing the rotary
my combination
into the past
lift the receiver
out of the cradle
lift the receiver
out of the past
fire will be burning
up through the blue air
sparks will be floating
floating on air
