In my cage of a home, built of walls and memories,I live, I work, I sit, writing a river of verses....
London with its ten million means nothing to me,I do not hear the hum, no voice here brings me joy...
I am alone, just me and the walls, pencil, computer, a light,The curtains sway over the contours, missing only love.
Suddenly I hear sounds, a chirping hidden deep,I run with joy, I search, drunk on the unexpected.
It is my mobile phone, it chirps with song and fills the house,Your laughter reaches me, the house becomes a meadow...
A gurgle, the voice, the laughter, and my house fills right up,You give it meaning, the rapture, without you the house cannot live!
You are far, far from the house, but you come and go through the phone,You are life, the light of joy, playing, laughing like a pet lamb...
I am not alone in this house, with its walls and heavy curtains,Here we live, you and I, joy lives here and so does the song...
When the telephone chirps, the house fills up with dreams...
