I Was a Guest - Aaron Booth

Rows rule the garden, flowers divided

Habit embroidered through soil and its borders

Our politics of arranging our objects

Longitude, latitude, time zone

I was a guest in the house where I lived

Twelve months of mail addressed where to lay my head

A policy of common cartography

Longitude, latitude, time zone

And all I want to say to you, my love

Is you’re my home, you’re my home

You’re my home, you’re my home

Wool weaves a pattern, bodies warm a blanket

Love fills its quarters in cross roads and its corners

Above this globe the sun casts no shadow

No dark lines, no road signs, no road

And all I want to say to you, my love

Is you’re my home, you’re my home

You’re my home, you’re my home

You’re my home