Been climbing trees I've skinned my knees

My hands are black the sun is going down

She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam

She's listening to the dream I weaved today

Crosswords through the bathroon door

While someone sings the theme tune to the news

And my sisters buzzes through the room leaving perfume in the air

And that's what triggered this

I come back here from time to time

I shelter here somedays



A high-back chair, he sits and stairs

A thousand yards and whistles marching-band

Kneeling by and speaking up

He reaches out and I take a massive hand

Disjointed tales that flit between

Short trousers and a full dress uniform

And he talks of people ten years gone

Like I've known them all my life

Like scattered black & whites

I come back here from time to time

I shelter here somedays

I come back here from time to time

I shelter here somedays