My friend Duncan Power wonders if it is possible that we are living our lives backwards, with the provision that the only way you can change the ultimately appointed outcome, the only way to make sure that what ends up happening to you is not the story it was written to be, is to act like a coward; if you are afraid to take what’s coming to you, it will slip away and it won’t be yours anymore after all. On that note, here’s what it looked like when I came home.

“This Must be the Place (Naive Melody)”
Talking Heads, Speaking in Tongues
Warner Bros., 1990

Home is where I want to be

Pick me up and turn me round

I feel numb – born with a weak heart

(So I) guess I must be having fun

The less we say about it the better

Make it up as we go along

Feet on the ground

Head in the sky

It’s ok I know nothing’s wrong . . nothing

Hi yo I got plenty of time

Hi yo you got light in your eyes

And you’re standing here beside me

I love the passing of time

Never for money

Always for love

Cover up + say goodnight . . . say goodnight

Home – is where I want to be

But I guess I’m already there

I come home – -she lifted up her wings

Guess that this must be the place

I can’t tell one from another

Did I find you, or you find me?

There was a time before we were born

If someone asks, this where I’ll be . . . where I’ll be

Hi yo We drift in and out

Hi yo sing into my mouth

Out of all those kinds of people

You got a face with a view

I’m just an animal looking for a home

Share the same space for a minute or two

And you love me till my heart stops

Love me till I’m dead

Eyes that light up, eyes look through you

Cover up the blank spots

Hit me on the head Ah ooh