POP MUSIC : Get Back, Honky Cats : In their strongest teaming since the ‘70s, Elton John and Bernie Taupin have come full circle with the edgy ‘Made in England.’ Talk about the circle of life.

‘The beauty of not talking about our songs is that it has always left them open to interpretation,” lyricist Bernie Taupin says, sitting next to songwriting partner Elton John on the sofa in a Los Angeles hotel suite.

“That’s the joy of what we do, creating songs that are a door to the imagination. You are free to step in and see whatever you want to see. We just paint the colors and you put it all together.”

This reluctance to interpret his own lyrics is a major reason Taupin has avoided interviews related to new albums for almost two decades. In his own meetings with journalists, John tended to sidestep the lyrics by telling inquiring writers that they’d have to talk to Taupin about the words.

So, why are Taupin and John now talking about the songs they wrote for John’s just-released “Made in England” album?

Why are they explaining that “House,” a song that could be seen as the story of the heartbreaking loss of a loved one, is really a song of paranoia? And why are they explaining that “Blessed,” which sounds like a song of unabashed optimism, really is about unabashed optimism?

Taupin and John say it’s because they are more excited about the new material than any set of songs they’ve written since the ‘70s.

The pair wrote some appealing songs in the ‘80s and early ‘90s, but most of their work from those years seemed merely skillful rather than filled with the convincing personal edge of such early gems as “Your Song” and “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.”

At the heart of the new “Made in England,” which entered the pop charts this week at No. 13, one senses a renewed purpose and passion--songs in which the words and music flow together to celebrate the resilience of the human spirit.

Their music, once again, is a shared vision, forged largely by positive developments in their personal lives.

After considerable ups and down in the ‘80s, Taupin and John are both involved in rewarding relationships and have been greatly touched by the strength of people they’ve met while supporting AIDS-related causes.

John has spoken widely in recent years about how he began to emerge from a private hell of drugs and other problems, including the eating disorder bulimia, after spending time with Indiana teen-ager Ryan White, whose heroic battle against AIDS in the late ‘80s attracted national attention. He has since formed the Elton John AIDS Foundation.

Taupin has donated hundreds of hours to producing some of the annual, star-studded Commitment to Life concerts that raise millions of dollars for AIDS Project Los Angeles, a nonprofit organization that helps serve more than 4,000 people affected by HIV or AIDS.

“There’s no doubt that things have come around,” Taupin says, looking over at his longtime musical partner. “In the last 10 years, I think, there has been a gradual rebuilding of a friendship that was always there but that is now based on more understanding. I also think that when I hit 40, I really grew up. I think that has happened to Elton too. In finding ourselves, I think we found each other again, found a new enthusiasm.”

About the AIDS influence, he adds: “It certainly gives you a very good rudder to steer by--a purpose. Like Elton did with Ryan, you see so much strength in people. It just sort of slaps you upside the head and says, ‘Straighten up. This is the way to be.’

“That’s why I think there is a light at the end of the tunnel in all the new songs, a belief that there is a solution. That is the theme of the album in a way. It’s about triumph of the human spirit.”

A fter years of being the public voice of the team, John enjoys seeing Taupin share some of the attention. When inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last year in New York, John called Taupin on stage and gave him the trophy.

It has been 25 years since John made his U.S. debut at the Troubadour in West Hollywood and became a star virtually overnight, thanks to songs that welded the accessibility and craft of pop with the energy and passion of rock.

He was 23 at the time, three years older than Taupin, whom he had met in 1967 after both responded to an ad in a British pop weekly seeking budding young songwriters.

John was a gifted and prolific composer, but he had trouble with lyrics. In Taupin, he found someone with a remarkable feel for lyrics that were at once warmly universal yet rich in personal character and detail.

They were encouraged by publishers at first to write commercial ballads, something that, say, Engelbert Humperdinck or Johnny Mathis might record. But the results were lousy, until someone at the publishing company told them that they ought to start writing in their own style.

Taupin’s most absorbing lyrics seemed drawn straight from life--as shown in the sweet innocence of “Your Song” (1970) and the dark anxiety of “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” (1974) and “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” (1975).

But whose life was he writing about--his or John’s?

“I’ve always tried to write things that are relatable to both of us, songs about the human condition,” Taupin says during the hotel room interview.

One of the strengths of their partnership in the ‘70s was that they were going through similar experiences, reacting to the same pressures of maintaining their balance amid the escalating fame.

They were on such a strong wavelength that John would set Taupin’s lyrics to music without even discussing what the lyricist had in mind.

The approach worked so well that John had seven straight No. 1 albums between “Honky Chateau” in 1972 and “Rock of the Westies” in 1975--albums that held onto the No. 1 spot for a collective 39 weeks.

It was a grinding pace, and it took its toll. By the end of the decade, both artists seemed somewhat burned out; it’s natural, in retrospect, that they needed time apart.

After working briefly with other lyricists, however, John again turned to Taupin--and the hits started flowing again. Yet it wasn’t until about three years ago that they both reached points in their personal lives that enabled them to feel they had regained the ‘70s creative rhythm.

After two divorces, Taupin was happily involved in a new relationship, and John, after years of addiction, had gone through a hospital program.

“I was 100% aware what was going on with Elton,” Taupin says, looking over at his longtime friend. “But you get to a point where there is nothing you can really do except sort of kneel down and pray that that person is going to come to terms with it.

“On the selfish side, I had my own demons to deal with some of those years. I had my bouts with everything, all the necessary vices. That’s unimportant. I’m not really big on the survivor quotes. It’s just life.

“The odd thing is our lives, though they have been a bit parallel, have been a bit off-kilter. There were times when he has been OK and I haven’t or I’ve been OK and he hasn’t, and I think that’s good because we were able to support each other in those periods.”

It’s a sign of how their lives have intersected again that John picked up right away the sentiments behind “House,” even though it is one of the most elusive songs on the new album.

In the song, the narrator sits alone in his room, gazing passively at various possessions. On first listening, it’s easy to assume that the song is an expression of loss and need--that the death of a loved one has made the once-prized possessions seem distant and cold.

Or the song could be about death--with someone looking down at his house and his life.

“Well, those are all valid ways to look at the song,” Taupin says tentatively, still apparently reluctant to detail his own intent as the lyricist. After a brief pause, he goes against his own instincts.

“It’s really a song about paranoia,” Taupin says. “It is about feeling comfortable with insignificant objects, the loneliness of wanting to curl up in the corner of a room and say, ‘I am going to stay here because I feel safe.’ ”

He looks at John, who nods.

“As soon as I read the lyrics, I thought of when I used to do cocaine and wouldn’t come out of my room for two weeks at a time,” John says. “Talk about paranoia. . . . I would creep around my own house so slowly that it would take me 15 minutes to walk across my bedroom floor. I didn’t want the floorboards to creak because I didn’t want anyone to know I was still up. I didn’t want the floorboards to creak.”

As on the rest of the album, however, there is a glimmer of hope in the song. Despite his gloom, the narrator looks out at the rain and imagines his pain being washed away.

“To me, that line is like the baptism--the re-emergence, the person (in the song),” John says, as Taupin nods this time. “It’s about looking out of the window and then finding the strength to follow through.”

Not everything on “Made in England” is as dark as “House.”

“Blessed” is about the joy of impending parenthood, a song that reflects Taupin’s own desire to have children. “Please,” too, is an expression of romantic devotion.

“I love it because I am very happily in a relationship,” John says of “Please.” “I have always been the person who wanted the white picket fence and the happy marriage and the wonderful American kind of ‘Ozzie and Harriet’ story, and I think this song says it all. I feel very happy in my life that I can actually sing that and have someone in my life that I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

John, who identifies his companion only as “David” to shield him from the media, spends about half the year at his house in Atlanta and divides the rest of the time when he’s not on tour between a house in London and a mansion in Windsor, England.

After his stadium tour with Billy Joel ends April 11 in Miami, John will get ready for a solo tour that will begin in May in Europe and reach the United States in late summer. It’s all part of a hectic pace that has included, since 1990, the writing of the music for the film “The Lion King.” “Can You Feel the Love Tonight,” a song he wrote for the film with Tim Rice, won an Oscar for best original song.

Taupin, who has lived in Southern California since the ‘70s, and his wife, Stephanie, own Cicada, the hip Hollywood restaurant. But he spends most of his time with his wife and two stepdaughters on a ranch in the Santa Ynez Valley. He is surprised by how much family life has affected him.

“Until now, I was never around kids, didn’t think I had the time for them,” he says. “But your eyes open up. I love getting up and taking kids to school. It is a great feeling, part of that rebirth.”