They always told me the view from the hill
You know the one the one with all the houses
With all the lights on in half the houses
Would make me feel
welcome but it It
frightens me every time All those lights
all those people all those doomsayers
Dreaming clouds lightning
Cutting paper into houses made of card
Where the edges lined up
Crash like the thunder sounds of tyres squealing
In a dash back to all those houses
Where all those half awake people are waking up
To the fact it’s raining out and they have to come in from the rain
But Home is where you don’t come in from the rain
Because you are the rain
Tapping on the rooftops like a child nervous
About whether this is the right house
we can only reach the doorbell on tippy toes anyway
So we press our faces to the glass
And smear our smiles ‘til they’re framed like priceless art
Leaving a snapshot our youth
Now I tell them the view from the hill
You know the one the one without the houses
Where the only lights aren’t from houses
Will make them feel
Welcome