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We Become History
04:38
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12 generation of my family, all laid to rest in the cemetery
Many an echo still rings in these halls
Their eyes gazing out from the oil paintings lining the walls
12 generations all rotting to soil
Family fortune divorced from the toil
that built up this house and built up this name
Which I carry in honest devotion, in torment, in vain
There came a great stillness and dust gathered deep
The fireplaces cooled and the floors barely creaked
In grey lonely silence I wandered the grounds
searching for something I haven't yet found
But something came shifting right under my feet
I feel the house waking from deathly cold sleep
No one comes to call, never here in my home
But lately I feel I am never alone
Someone has changed all the rugs on the floor
I don't recognize these walls anymore
This house, it is mine, but it's been a long time
Since I've shaken the feeling that I haven't found my way home
My lantern in hand, wandering light in the sky
The oil burns low, but it never runs dry
The corridors move with a warm living glow
But faces and voices, they never do show
I'll never down to the graveyard alone
for too many ghosts wander there in the bones
I can't feel the cold, though an icy wind blows
Will I ever find my way back?
Only heaven knows...
Nothing I change with my hands seems to last
It's as if my things have been locked behind glass
This house bares my name, but it's just not the same
and I can't shake the feeling that this isn't home anymore
Do you know my name?
Do you know that I'm still here?
These things were once mine, now I've nothing but time
More than I wanted, I fear.
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Caleb Seguin Albany, New York
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