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Letters from Home

de Hudson Westbrook

Well, this kitchen used to be a dance hall
Music on and the lights off, just you and I
Used to be perfume on your pillow
New day through the window
Bringing out the blue in your eyes

Used to be four boots by the front door
But two ain't there anymore
And now it's just four empty walls
Where I'll lay my head and get no rest at all
The porch swing don't swing, the doorbell don't ring
And now it's just wood on concrete
And numbers on a mailbox on Used To Be Street

I guess you were right, I should have left when you did
The house you made a home is now just a house again
These days all I hear is an echo
Of you saying: Baby, don't go and your goodbye
If you came back, you'd be surprised
You wouldn't even recognize this place without you
What the hell did you do?
'Cause now it's just four empty walls

Where I'll lay my head and get no rest at all
The porch swing don't swing, the doorbell don't ring
And now it's just wood on concrete
And numbers on a mailbox on Used To Be Street
I guess you were right, I should have left when you did
The house you made a home is now just a house again

Kitchen used to be a dance hall
With music on and the lights off
But now it's just four empty walls
Where I'll lay my head and get no rest at all
The porch swing don't swing, the doorbell don't ring
And now it's just wood on concrete

Numbers on a mailbox on Used To Be Street
I guess you were right, I should have left when you did
The house you made a home is now just a house again

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