Kate Bush Lake Tahoe
The clock has stopped
So long she's gone
No one's home
Her old dog is sleeping
His legs are frail now
But when he dreams,
He runs...
Along long beaches and sticky fields
Through the Spooky Wood looking for her.
The beds are made. The table is laid.
The door is open, someone is calling – it's a woman:
“Here boy, here boy! You've come home!
I've got an old bone and a biscuit and so much love
Miss me? Did you miss me?
Here's the kitchen – there's your basket
Here's the hall – that's where you wait for me
Here's the bedroom – you're not allowed in there
Here's my lap – that's where you rest your head
Here boy, oh you're a good boy
You've come home
You've come home