In an open field at dusk
To footfalls, I awoke
Marching ants across my temple zone
Their feet had no intention
They followed some magnetic draw
Prisoners of their destination

From the slats of the [bad word] (where once they did make rails)
Old dad's peculiar songs
He didn't know I was listening
So he crowed out nice and long
To the spiders and the lumber and the dust of his conquests
and his hunger and his loss
I heard his feet rejoice
I heard him tap his cane
As if he had his own revue
On stage at the _____

I caught his words in my open mouth
I gagged and choked and spit them out
I heard him turn as he did hear
My tiny heartbeat in his ear
I was [bad word] Oh, I heard [bad word] 
Shrapnel spinning from his wheels
The sounding arms rake for my heels
I know then roll and hit my face
And I said these magic words

My dove is home
Her breast is warm
My dove is home

And I said these magic words

I've fallen down and out of the anthill for days

My dove is home
Her breast is warm
My dove is home