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Other People's Houses
Paul Kelly and the Messengers
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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His mother always let him stay up late on Fridays
They would lie in her room together, watching TV
Sometimes she fell asleep before he did
And he'd be watching a talk show
One person talking, then another
Then all this laughter coming from nowhere
Next thing he knew, she would be shaking him gently
"Wake up, little one, wake up, it's Saturday morning"
So he'd get up, dress himself
Put his shoes on and leave the house without breakfast
Breakfast always came later in other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
They had to catch two buses to reach their destination
And the trip seemed to take forever
Unless he fell asleep along the way
When they got off at their stop
They were in a bigger, brighter neighbourhood
All the houses were a long way back from the street
And some of them were hidden from view by big hedges
Looking down the street was like looking
Through the wrong end of a telescope
His mother guided him through this country
She knew exactly where to go
She carried in her bag a big heavy ring full of keys
All keys to other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
She would turn one of the keys in the lock
Some of the doors needed two keys
Then presto, they were in
The houses had so many things in them
Yet still so much space
And carpet that went on forever
He liked to rub his feet quickly on the thick pile
Then touch a doorknob with one finger
And give himself a small electric shock
In the first house, they always went straight to the refrigerator
There were things in there he couldn't imagine anyone ever eating
Strange-looking pastes in jars
And horrible concoctions in plastic
His mother would fix him up with a jam sandwich and a glass of milk
Then she'd set to work, cleaning other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
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And so they would go, all Saturday long
From one house to another
His mother mopping, vacuuming, scrubbing
Cleaning, tidying up, leaving him to his own devices
Often if no one was home
She would play music on the stereo
There was one record she always put on and sang along to
It had two men and two women on the cover
And they all looked sort of blonde
Except one of the women, who had dark hair
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The stereo flickered like the controls of a spaceship
Other houses were full of books
And sometimes he was allowed to take one of
The books down from the shelves and open it up
There were books on war and cricket and movie stars
He liked to look at the pictures and pick out big words that he knew
He was very careful with the books
He was very careful with everything in other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Some of the houses had other children in them
They would rush right past him into the yard
He'd follow them out back
Where the backyard was as big as the house
Sometimes even bigger
He'd play with them for a while
Then sit on the steps, watching them
He felt slower than the others
There was a girl about his age
Who lived in a house they went to every second Saturday
Her name was Stephanie
She used to take him with her everywhere she went
All around the house, even into her room
He'd never see his mother until it was time to leave
But one Saturday, his mother told him
That Stephanie and her family had moved away
Just like that
He still thinks of her now, twenty years later
Moving, laughing, sitting down to dinner
Making conversation, making love
In other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses (Other people's houses)
Other people's houses (Other people's houses)
Other people's houses (Other people's houses)
Other people's houses
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