My mother died nine months ago my Dada thinks she’s asleep upstairs
And wonders where his children are the ones who moved out years ago.
He knows he lives here in this house, but wonders where his home is.
On the hill I know, but when can I move in he asks?
I know this is my house, but when can I go home?
He left the Army in sixty four, but now awaits his de mob papers
and asks when can I go home, I feel so useless here?
All the other fellas have gone home and I’m alone here waiting,
To do something useful with my life.
My darling wife asleep and me alone, when can I go to my home?
I know this is my house, but when can I go home?
Teaching kids for thirty years one school, a thousand childrens’
Dreams completed, but where has that all gone as in the sands of time?
It’s faded and still in the Army he steadfastly remains.
I know this is my house, but when can I go home?
He smiles and hands flutter as in the past he delves
I was happy in my house and need to move back in
So where is my home upon the hill?
I know this is my house, but when can I go home?
I’ll just pop upstairs and wake your mother she shouldn’t sleep
So long. No Dada my mother’s dead, she can’t wake up.
I know she’s gone, but my wife is still asleep upstairs and
I need to have some tea.
And where do you live now? The tenth time asked in no time
At all and when you answer the tenth same reply, it’s all news to him.
The family well, not working too hard I hope?
And no they’re fine and keeping well, repeated ad infinitum, before
He remembers once again,
I know this is my house, but when can I go home?