With the furrowing of my intelligent brow With my glistening muscle and brawn And my rhythmic thrusts in shrouds of mist Father, see me build a home for the young
With my smile and my agony alternating And formidable forces galore frustrating The creativity of my persistent yearnings Father, see me build a place called home
With pangs of regret and sorrow banished In moments of temporary accommodation And with joy unlimited in the ascendancy Father, see me build from a fusion of desires
Spurred on by the mellow essence of femininity Wrapped like a surprise in garments of pleasantry Blown gently to float like soap bubbles in the air Father, thus see me grip an opportunity come