Mike DiFiore - The House Lyrics
Packing bags, and fillin’ casesOh, what they doin’ to yaMovin’ out the chairs and tablesBoxin’ up the spoons and ladles“We’ll be out by Monday”, you hear them sayin’“Better, get these beds away, andThey’re strippin’ the walls, and takin’ down picturesLosin’ the past, as they remove their richesAnd you standOutside on your ownAnd you waitBut they ain’t coming home to youThat’s right and you standIn the middle of the streetThink about the new placeThat they gonna meetBricked up doorways, and boarded windowsDriveway gates are closin’Moss on the walls, and weeds in the gravelRooftiles buckle, and guttering danglesRising damp, and leaky pipeworkKitchen sink is fillin’Water drippin’ down the chimneyRottin’ the floor where the fire once burnedAnd so you standOutside on your ownAnd you waitBut they ain’t coming home to youThat’s right and you standIn the middle of the streetThink about the new placeThat they gonna meetSo this is the endAnd they’ve goneThere’s nothing you can do‘s gonna bring em backAnd now you gonna think‘s all you can do nowBut they’ll never knowThey’ll never know what they’re missingAnd all of those timesWhen they sat aroundYou’re gonna miss ‘emAnd you know what’s funnySounds just like a girl I used to know
