Been climbing trees, I've skinned my knees
My hands are black and 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 bathroom door
While someone sings the theme-tune to the news
And my sister 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 some days

A high-back chair, he sits and stares a thousand yards
And whistles marching band
Kneeling by and speaking on
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 and whites

I come back here from time to time
I shelter here some days

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