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I could live in your house
If you die before me
I could live in your house.
I could keep it warm
when you move out.
I could put the kettle on
the inimitable AGA
for random people
who might just stop by
To celebrate you;
a memory,
a moment,
maybe even a laugh,
perhaps even a cry,
maybe even a dance
at the end of the night.
I’d just stay home
and doss around;
no need to spend money
when you’re not in town.
If I ever wanted to live in your house,
I’d sit on the front step
hungry,
like a mouse
watching the wandering walkers stomp by
on their way to the swing bridge,
’cross the River Wye
just to say
”Alright?”
I’d listen out for voicescarried in the air, and close my eyes and imagine you were there with your half of cider and my roly cigarette; the only time we'd usually connect. Sat there in silence that’s never really there. There’s always a sound, a frequency we share. I could prune your roses even trim the hedge, keep a tin of condensed milk on the larder ledge. I could play your music as well as my own extremely loud; like The Twilight Zone. There’d be no looking back and no standing still. But there’d be logs on the fire and the smell of time suspended. Cracked carbolic soap resting by the sink, I’d raise a glass to you with my favourite drink Petrol on Switches off Suck in Contact Chocks away…
Listen
Words and voice by Suzy Starlite. Recorded by Simon Campbell at the Supertone SonicLab. ℗ © Supertone Records, 2025.
Or perhaps…