45 Langdale Road

Every thirty three years the house appears
Otherwise it’s invisible to my eyes.
I watched at midnight as the other house move
And there it is, my home

At half past eight the oak door opens wide
I see my father smoking his old pipe
The morning light catches the lenses in his spectacles
He turns around, and smiles

Where does he go, where does he go?

My mother waves until he’s far away
She can’t see me anymore
She is wearing the frilly pinny as I remember her 
Her beautiful curls bounce as she turns away
Where does she go, where does she go

Every thirty three years the house appears
Otherwise it’s invisible to my eyes

Where do they go, where do they go?