Et même si j’ai déjà posté cette chanson (ou du moins un bout) grâce la jolie vidéo qui l’accompagnait, voici Lake Tahoe, dont l’histoire me touche.

Une femme, portant un robe victorienne, attend, au bord d’un lac, immobile comme un poupée de porcelaine, son chien. Qui rêve de qui ? 

Lake Tahoe 
Cold mountain water 
Don’t ever swim there 
Just stand on the edge and look in there 
And you might see a woman down there 
They say some days, up she comes, up she rises, as if out of nowhere 
Wearing Victorian dress. 
She was calling her pet, “Snowflake! Snowflake!” 
Tumbling like a cloud that has drowned in the lake 
Just like a poor, porcelain doll… 
Her eyes are open but no-one’s home 
The clock has stopped 
So long she’s gone 
No-one’s home 
Her old dog is sleeping 
His legs are frail now 
But when he dreams, 
He runs… 
Along long beaches and sticky fields 
Through the Spooky Wood looking for her 
The beds are made. The table is laid 
The door is open - someone is calling: It’s a woman 
“Here boy, here boy! You’ve come home! 
I’ve got an old bone and a biscuit and so much love 
Miss me? Did you miss me? 
Here’s the kitchen - There’s your basket 
Here’s the hall - That’s where you wait for me 
Here’s the bedroom - You’re not allowed in there 
Here’s my lap - That’s where you lay your head 
Here boy, oh you’re a good boy 
You’ve come home 
You’ve come home

Illustration de Kay Nielsen.

itsinthetrees:

Kate Bush - “Lake Tahoe” (2011)

cold mountain water; don’t ever swim there
just stand on the edge and look in there
and you might see a woman down there