Sean Mcconnell If These Walls Could Speak
Last night I had a dream I went back to my old home
down at 200 orange street a long time ago,
And I walked up to the front porch and I opened the
screen door and it hit me like it never did before.
Took the stairs up to my bedroom where I spent most of
my years, making faces at my brother, holding him
through common fears.
And I walked over to the window and my heart almost
died, I could hear the neighbors screamin’, “Come
outside, come outside.”
And our young voices make me see the kind of children
that we used to be.
And if these streets could whisper, if these walls
could speak, they would scream out love they would cry
themselves to sleep,
They would pray to Jesus, they would sing rock and
roll, they would laugh with each other, they would live
soul to soul.
But I guess that don’t matter anyway, cuz if these
walls could speak I know what they’d say…I know what
they’d say.
Took the hallway to the bedroom where my parents used
to sleep, where I’d sneak in during quiet and my
nightmares grew too deep.
And I walked over to the closet where my father hung
his ties,
I still smell the scent of cigarettes and years gone
by.
That closet used to look so tall and now everything
around here seems so small.
But if these streets could whisper, if these walls
could speak, they would scream out love, they would cry
themselves to sleep,
They would pray to Jesus, they would sing rock and
roll, they would laugh with each other, they would live
soul to soul.
But I guess that don’t matter anyway, cuz if these
walls could speak I know what they’d say…I know what
they’d say.
In this dream of childhood memories some I never will
forget, some I might as well.
Well most of them have happy endings, some of them
still burn like hell…they burn like hell…they burn like
hell, yeah.
So to the living room I went, to where my sisters used
to sing,
Used to get on my last nerve now I’d give anything just
to see them there again, dancing like they used to do,
spinning circles holding hands until I’d break on
through.
Well I woke up when I heard a shout, “Ain’t it
beautiful how life turned out?”
But if these streets could whisper, if these walls
could speak, they would scream out love, they would cry
themselves to sleep.
They would pray to Jesus, they would sing rock and
roll, they would laugh with each other, they would live
soul to soul.
But I guess that don’t matter anyway, cuz if these
walls could speak I know what they’d say, I know what
they’d say, I know what they’d say, I know what’d they
say