Hammill Peter - A Louse Is Not A Home Lyrics

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Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;

Sometimes i think i'll disappear; betimes i think i have.

There's a line snaking down my mirror :

Splintered glass distorts my face

And though the light is strong and strange

It can't illuminate the musty corners of this place.

There is a lofty lonely lohengrenic castle in the clouds --

I draw my murky meanings there

But seven years' dark luck is just around the corner

And in the shadows lurks the spectre of despair.

A cracked mirror mid the drapes of the landing :

Split image labored understanding ----

I'm only trying to find a place to hide my home ....

I've lived in houses composed of glass

Where every movement is charted

But now the monitor screens are dark

And i can't tell if silent eyes are there.

My words are spiders upon the page

They spin out faith hope and reason ----

But are they meet and just or only dust

gathering about my chair?

Sometimes i get the feeling that there's

Someone else there :

The faceless watcher makes me uneasy

I can feel him through the floorboards

and his presence is creepy ----

He informs me that i shall be expelled ....

What is that but out of and into :

I don't know the nature of the door that i'd go through

I don't know the nature of the nature

that i am inside ....

I've lived in houses of brick and lead

Where all emotion is sacred

And if you want to devour the fruit

You must first sniff at the fragrance

And lay your body before the shrine

With poems and posies and papers ----

Or if you catch the ruse you'll have to choose

To stay a monk or leave a vagrant.

What is this place you call home?

Is it a sermon or a confession?

Is it the chalice that you use for protection?

Is it really only somewhere you can stay?

Is it a rule-book or a lecture?

Is it a beating at the hands of your protector?

Does the idol have feet of clay?

Home is what you make it so my friends

all say

But i rarely see their homes in these dark days.

Some of them are snails and carry houses

on their backs;

Others live in monuments which one day

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will be racks --

I keep my home in place with sellotape

and tin-tacks

But i still feel there's some other force here :

He who cracks the mirrors and moves the walls

Keeps staring through the eye-slits of the portraits

in my hall;

He ravages my library and taps the telephone --

I've never actually seen him

But i know he's in my home

And if he goes away

I can't stay here either.

I believe -- er -- i think --

Well i don't know ......

I only live in one room at a time

But all of the walls are ears all the windows eyes :

Everything else is foreign

'home' is my wordless chant :

Mmmmmaah!

Give it a chance!

I am surrounded by flesh and bone

I am a temple of living

I am a hermit i am a drone

And i am boning out a place to be.

With secret garlands about my head

Unearthly silence is broken :

The room is growing dark and in the stark light

I can see a face i know ----

Could this be the guy who never shows

The cracked mirror what he's feeling

Merely mumbles prayers to the ground where

he's kneeling :

"home is home is home is home is home is home is me!"

All you people looking for your houses

Don't throw your weight around you might

break your glasses

And if you do you know you just can't see

And then how are you to find the dawning

of the day?

--- day is just a word i use to keep the dark

at bay

And people are imaginary nothing else exists

Except the room i'm sitting in

And of course the all-pervading mist ---

Sometimes i wonder if even that's real ....

Maybe i should de-louse this place;

Maybe i should de-place this louse;

Maybe i'll maybe my life away

In the confines of this silent house.

Sometimes it's very scary here; sometimes it's very sad;

Sometimes i think i'll disappear; sometimes i think ..... "

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