Welcome

“This is a little song extolling the virtues of romance and household appliances.”

-Typical introduction at live gigs


I’ve got a head full of photographs.
There’s these little black things
Flapping wings in my attic.
I’ve got a porch light for you
And a bug zapper too.
I’ve got fresh-teased, hand-squeezed
Veranda lemonade.

I’ve got a mind like a Polaroid
And I’m not paranoid that it never developed.
Got a Kodachrome dream with a
Family theme and those bare skinned
Crooked grin snap-shots just never do fade.

Chorus:
Welcome to my home,
Leave your feet at the door.
Let your shinny bones roam,
Give your torso a tour.
We all used to be haunted,
But we’re not like that anymore.

I’ve still got my heart in the cuisineart,
All pureed in love and the motions
Of Loving. Just a rind and a peel
And an unbalanced meal.
And a bittersweet, incomplete,
Crazy-straw Molotov tea.

I still carry the flame of affection for you,
Like the purest reflection in my new toaster oven.
Just a woman and a man
On the layaway plan and a demonstrator
’98, floor model baby makes three.

repeat chorus

I’m a homebody, anybody can see that
A body’s at home when a heart’s resting easy.
I’ll be easy on you,
I’ll be modern and true.
I’m a new, improved underloved,
Old-fashioned, young so and so.

And so I’ve a head full of photographs.
There’s these little black things
Flapping wings in my attic.
I’ve got a porch light for you
And a bug zapper too.
I’ve got fresh-teased, hand-squeezed
Veranda lemonade.

repeat chorus

 

“Welcome” appears on Faith is a Muscle and Live at the Pres House.


© and ℗ 1998, 2001 Marques Bovre