This House

This house built on a rock;
With cracks that run on the wall;
Barred windows of silver,
A piano tune play at the hall.
With wondrous sleeping chamber and shame it would fall;
This house built on a rock.

When a man with arms checks in;
He brings friends that reek wreck and distress,
Who bid him farewell with soiled footprints.
So the piano at the hall turned tuneless,
And the sleeping chamber is restless nest,
When a man with arms checks in.

 

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