“This is a song, ultimately, I probably wrote ’cause I was always a big fan of The Wizard of Oz. And I was always a little bit frightened of tornados and flyin’ blue monkeys. But who wouldn’t be?”-From Live and Acoustic at the Pres-House on 13 Dec 1997
When they built this home,
It was stone by stone,
Back when stones had barely been born.
With the last stone laid,
And the best plans made
On a hazy Sunday morn.
And in the beginning,
There was nothing to see thru the window.
And in the foundation,
Was the smell of ancestral bones.
Now we are walking thru the ruins,
Where the garden was grown.
And I live in a big strong house,
It’ll never fall to disrepair.
You can come in from
The rain and the wind,
You can always find your comfort there.
I live in a big strong house,
On a sea of prairie fire.
I used to sit on the porch,
Watchin’ storms rollin’ in,
But I never had any idea.
“Til the twister come down,
And it mowed down the town,
And this house was all that was left here.
And many good people,
Were picked up and were never put down again.
And all the survivors come down to this house,
To begin again.
Now we all pray for the day,
When we’ll meet up with all our lost friends again.
Well I been out a-travellin’,
And callin’ on great houses,
From far away lands.
And they were never my home,
But it’s clearly been shown,
They were built by some powerful hands.
And there is no question,
That the architect is a great wanderer.
And there is salvation,
In the handiwork of the carpenter.
And there is a mansion,
Where the rooms are all perfectly circular.
© and ℗ 1992, 2001, 2012 Marques Bovre