His House Her Home - Squeeze

I think to myself when we kiss

Your husband is watching

From his portrait his eyes are looking down

On the slipper and stocking

Back against the bookcase

Down upon the floor

Empty the decanter

Slur again for more.

His house, Her home, our future in a lover’s world

Her son, Her heart, her love for me, tomorrow’s world

I laugh at myself when your son

Is watching cartoons

In the morning he’s looking up at me

When we’re in the bathroom

Sees me kissing mother

Doesn’t blink an eye

Asks a lot of questions

Answers hard to find.

I talk to myself when I’m drunk

And she is still sober

Words are so few and far between

My arms reach to hold her

Hungry for the love

I rescued from the grave

The past is just a portrait

The future’s ours to frame