The Door That
Knew My Name

The road ended where the rain began
At the mouth of the old estate
No lantern moved in the upper glass
No hand waited at the gate

I carried no key in my pocket
No letter folded thin
But the iron latch grew warm to me
As if it knew my skin

The door that knew my name
Opened without a sound
The dust rose up like breath
From somewhere underground

I stepped across the threshold
And the daylight lost its shape
The hall stretched out before me
Like a memory trying to wake

There were coats on hooks like bodies
There were clocks without a face
There were footprints in the ashes
That returned to the same place

And far below the floorboards
Where no living foot had trod
A low chord moved through the timber
Like a question asked by God

The door that knew my name
Closed behind my breath
The silence turned the handle
And the hallway answered yes

I heard a child laughing
In a room I could not find
I saw my own reflection
Leave the mirror from behind

Every stair was listening
Every wall had learned to wait
And the house inhaled around me
Like the opening of a gate

The door that knew my name
Was never wood or stone
It was the first old wound
That remembered me alone

So I walked into the shadow
With my hand against the grain
And somewhere deep beneath me
The choir began again

Under the boards
A low note rolled
Under the boards
The old wood spoke

Nail by nail
Beam by beam
The floor began
To carry a dream

Choir beneath the floor
I feel you in my feet
Choir beneath the floor
You move the house in sleep

The walls did not answer
The windows stayed still
But the grain of the timber
Was learning my will

A bass note turned
In the dust below
A pipe rang back
From the darkened stone

Choir beneath the floor
I feel you in my feet
Choir beneath the floor
You move the house in sleep

The ceiling hummed softly
The stair rails replied
The doors held their breath
As the low chord climbed

Not words
Not names
Not ghosts
Not graves

Just sound
Just weight
Just wood
Awake

Choir beneath the floor
I feel you in my feet
Choir beneath the floor
You move the house in sleep

The final chord kept moving
Through timber, dust, and rain
And every room above it
Began to sound the same

Glass
Cold glass
Black frame
No sky

Look out
Look in
Same room
Same eye

Window
Window
What do you want from me

Window
Window
Why do you look like me

I saw the garden
It was not the garden
I saw the road
It would not run

I saw my father
Turning from the doorway
I saw my mother
Swallowing the sun

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

Pane one
Rain room
Pane two
Red chair

Pane three
No child
Pane four
Still there

Window
Window
What did you do with me

Window
Window
Who did I used to be

I put my hand there
It put its hand back
I breathed on silver
It breathed on black

I said nothing
It said my name
I turned away
It stayed the same

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

No road
No rain
No leaves
No dawn

Only the rooms
I carried along

No road
No rain
No leaves
No dawn

Only the rooms
I carried along

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

Outside is inside now
Inside is loud
Turn the window around
Turn the window around

Glass
Cold glass
Black frame
No sky

I looked for the world
And the world looked inside

The stair was breathing
Before I began
A turn in the darkness
A weight in my hand

I rose through the house
But the house rose too
The ceiling drew nearer
The sky withdrew

No window above me
No floor left below
Only the turning
Refusing to go

I heard my own footsteps
Descending ahead
I followed them upward
And entered instead

The staircase refuses the sky
The staircase refuses the sky
The higher I climb
The deeper I lie

Behind the organ
The wall was thin
I heard the house breathing
From somewhere within

No hymn was rising
No prayer was said
Only the low wood
Answering the dead

Open the room
Behind the sound
Open the room
Under the ground

The keys were waiting
White as bone
The black keys listened
Like old stone

The pipes were silver
The dust was gold
The air moved slowly
The dark turned cold

Open the room
Behind the sound
Open the room
Under the ground

I stepped closer
The shadows bent
The floor remembered
Every voice it spent

The organ trembled
Without a hand
And all the house
Began to stand

Open the room
Behind the sound
Open the room
Under the ground

Behind the organ
The wall was gone
And deeper in the house
The choir carried on

I lit the candle once
The room began to turn
I lit the candle twice
And watched the old flame learn

The table changed its shadow
The walls forgot their line
A face I almost buried
Walked across the shine

No candle burns the same flame twice
No memory keeps the same disguise
Light it again and the room will lie
No candle burns the same flame twice

The smoke went up in circles
The ceiling moved away
The past came through the doorway
But would not choose a face

I called a name I trusted
It answered out of tune
The house was full of evenings
That ended far too soon

No candle burns the same flame twice
No memory keeps the same disguise
Light it again and the room will lie
No candle burns the same flame twice

The flame ran fast
The shadows crossed
The more I held
The more I lost

The wax fell hard
The windows shook
The same old room
Was not the room I took

No candle burns the same flame twice
No memory keeps the same disguise
Light it again and the room will lie
No candle burns the same flame twice

I blew the candle out
The dark began to glow
And all the things I thought I knew
Forgot the way to go

The portrait in the hallway
Had a crack across one eye
I passed it every evening
And it never watched me by

But tonight the painted shoulders
Shifted underneath the frame
And the mouth I thought was silent
Almost learned to say my name

The portrait started breathing
The room forgot the wall
The face inside the picture
Was not a face at all

I saw myself much younger
With a candle in my hand
I saw myself much older
Too afraid to understand

The varnish moved like water
The shadow changed its place
And something trapped behind it
Was arranging my own face

The portrait started breathing
The room forgot the wall
The face inside the picture
Was not a face at all

I asked it what it wanted
But it only looked away
As if I was the painting
And it lived another day

The hallway bent around us
The ceiling lowered slow
The eyes became two doorways
To a room I used to know

The portrait started breathing
The room forgot the wall
The face inside the picture
Was not a face at all

So I left it in the hallway
But the hallway followed me
And every empty mirror
Learned exactly what to see

Yellow hall
Still air
No clock
No stair

Noon burns
Noon stays
No shadow
No way

All corridors lead to noon
All corridors lead to noon
No tomorrow
Sun in the room

Door open
Floor sings
Portrait turns
Organ rings

No dusk
No dawn
Only noon
Holding on

All corridors lead to noon
All corridors lead to noon
No tomorrow
Sun in the room

Stairs fold
Windows blind
Choir rises
Out of time

Door knows
Floor breathes
House turns
Underneath

All corridors lead to noon
All corridors lead to noon
All corridors lead to noon
All corridors lead to noon