There is a room in my house and in your house too. A room that might be hard to find at times, (but at other times…) that is painted green or purple, or blue, (or any other color that you can imagine…) but even when you can’t find it, even when you’re not home, when you’re in your bed being rocked, or in the dining room eating a quiet dinner, the room is still there. (Always there…)
The color in this room changes sometimes, for some people. If your room is not painted then it will have patterned wallpaper. And then the pattern will change. The pattern will breathe and shift. It will form into different things and different people. You might even have conversations with your wallpaper in the evergreen room. (Sometimes it doesn’t change though, I wonder why?...)
It is where the home lies. (Where all its ghosts wait for you…)
It’s a large room, (but perhaps a smaller one…). It all depends on what you keep in there. The sky is held in this room. (The sun and moon…) Mine is filled with song. A strange melody, it goes something like: laa lalala dee lalala laa. And on sleepless nights this harmony from my evergreen room weaves through my eyes. It is a heavy room, the pressure, sometimes, enough to drown you. (Crush you…) it is sometimes enough to stop my breath.
In your evergreen room you can pretend whatever you wish to be true. (but not all the time, and sometimes the pretending is harder, slower…) in my room I am forever young, forever young, laying in the ground, keeping the rest of the room young with me.
The feeling when I can’t find my evergreen room is more crushing then being in it. But maybe you haven’t even found it yet, so you wouldn’t understand, (you couldn’t understand…)
For some people the evergreen room is not such a comforting place. Sometimes it is a place of deep shadow, (where no night light could ever penetrate…) it is still where the home lays, still a large room, or a smaller one. (Where all your ghosts lay…)