In Her Words: Amanda Palmer
The boundary-pushing performance artist pens an ode to her childhood home.
Dear old house that I grew up in,
I know they’re going to leave you any day.
Dear old house that I grew up in,
Can’t you find a way to make them stay?
And while the girls I went to school with went downtown with all the cool kids
I was staked out in your cellar making friends with dead umbrellas and the creaks of every floorboard tell the story of the girl I stuck inside and if they move away I’ll have no place to hide.
Dear old house that I grew up in,
I have never really been in love.
You took me heart when I was a child and your noises wrapped around my little body like a winter glove
You’re just a random set of objects in a town that’s full of sadness in the armpit of the world
You’re chipped-down trees in rotting soil
And if I wanted to I’d keep you
And I’d fill you up and heat you
”With the market how it is, Amanda, well, you know the price of oil…”
Goodnight stairs and goodnight stars on painted closet wall
Attic door and banister I’ll miss you most of all
I was supposed to keep you safe
This wasn’t supposed to end
Does it sound ridiculous to call you my best friend
Dear old house that I grew up in
I know I haven’t visited that much but every lifeless hotel and apartment I walk into just reminds me of the doorknobs that I want to touch
And I won’t miss you when they sell you to some evil yuppie couple with a child who’ll put Miley Cyrus posters in my bedroom
I am a native of the globe
I am a rock star on the road
I am now centrally located anywhere that I am known
But it doesn’t feel like anywhere
When you can’t go back home…
Dear old house that I grew up in,
I know it isn’t your fault this went down
So please don’t take it personally
Love,
Amanda
p.s. Tell the evil yuppie couple: when I’m rich… I’ll buy them out
