My father’s house
By Bruce Springsteen
Last night I dreamed that I was a child out where the pines grow wild and tall was trying to make it home through the forest before the darkness falls
I heard the wind rustling through the trees and ghostly voices rose from the fields I ran with my heart pounding down that broken path With the devil snapping at my heels
I broke through the trees and therein he night My father’s house stood shining hard and bright the branches and brambles tore my clothes and scratched my arms But I ran till I fell shaking in his arms
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart Will never again sir tear us from each other’s hearts got dressed and to that house I did ride from out on the road I could see its windows shining in light
I walked up the steps and stood on the porch a woman I didn’t recognize came and spoke to me through a chained door I told her my story and who I’d come for She said "I’m sorry son but no one by that name lives here anym