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