My son called me to the living room

Said the wolf was at the door

And I could see him through the window

In the road the dogs of war

Oh, and I might have let him in right then

His smile so wide and kind

But the whistle from the kettle

Drove the whole thing from my mind

Deeda-lada-deeda-dum

Bum-by-di-deeda-dum-by

Deeda-lada-deeda-dum

Bum-by-di-deeda-dum-by

My family seated round the table

The loose tea steamed and brewed

Sliced the bread to make the toast

As the ghosts called out for food

Oh, and I might have fed them all right then

Their pictures on the wall

But everyone I’ve ever known

Waits hungry in the hall

There are many different places

You might travel to

Some on roads for many

Some on roads for few

Through the din of conversation

I heard the words “When I was young”

And I could see me by the corner

With my blanket and my thumb

Oh, and I might have known it all back then

The world small and confined

But everything I’ve ever seen pushed it further from my mind