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To Wild Homes Lyrics
First my trusty voice cracked, like it's not plain to see
A sidewalk step defaults on my debt to the order of society
Behold our first rate lady, as if you hadn't guessed
The homemade queen of every homecoming not so gently laid to rest
And then outside her courtyard after entering your plea
You strike the right ingredient and chew the scenery
How many times must we say
"This kind of inflation cannot kill us"?
Our backers use versions we used to unwind with
The threads of an argument lost
How many times must we say
"This kind of inflation cannot kill us"?
Our backers use versions we used to unwind with
The threads of an argument lost
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
A sidewalk step defaults on my debt to the order of society
Behold our first rate lady, as if you hadn't guessed
The homemade queen of every homecoming not so gently laid to rest
You strike the right ingredient and chew the scenery
"This kind of inflation cannot kill us"?
Our backers use versions we used to unwind with
The threads of an argument lost
"This kind of inflation cannot kill us"?
Our backers use versions we used to unwind with
The threads of an argument lost
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
To wild homes we return
To wild homes we go
Song Info
Submitted by
constant On Jan 28, 2005
More The New Pornographers
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This song strikes me as being about poverty. Just the whole mention of debt and "wild homes" (possibly meaning homeless?) makes me think of living in poverty.
I think this song is about being happy with your life as it is, instead of craving "first class".
Wow, this song has always been cool to me since I got into "Mass Romantic" but I never thought of what it meant beyond it's extremely catchiness.
But looking over the lyric, I am devoid of a clue. Haha damn!? Reading up on "Letter from an Occupant" it seems Newman doesn't always have to make sense with his lyrics and will oft fit lyrics around what will sound good with the music. Hopefully there is some deeper meaning here