It doesn't matter what I say
And it doesn't matter what they know,
Tomorrow for me will be a rainy day
After they're through sending me where
No one even knows I may go.

And no matter what happens to me,
You'll be fine-fancy free,
You're all the same, just looking for something
Or someone that looks just like me to blame,
No one would hurt you just the same.

*And what was the point for this madness
That won't ever come to an end?
No attempt to find a way to ease the tension?
Why can't peace between us ever begin?
So you can always be certain you'll always win.

A house perched
On solid foundation
Provides shelter for a generation.

Homes aren't made of brittle bricks,
Wanning woods or crumbling stones;
You can't raze a well-built home.

A divided house will not stand,
A listing castle on shifting sands.

The peaks, dales and family travails,
At home are not abnormal,
They're common and diurnal;
Yet the undaunted home prevails.

Your house comprises various rooms
For eating, sleeping, and mundane routines.

Homes furnish rooms with smiles and tears,
And gatherings throughout your years,
To be shared or on one's own,
The choice is offered,
You're not alone.

Houses grow proud, though gratifying,
With amenities truly satisfying.

Homes swell with smells of love,
The sounds of children snug above,
A sense that all is safe and sure;
This day has given more than enough.

Houses get tidied, cleaned and aired,
Decorated for special affairs;

Homes are fingers, toes and hair,
Hampers, dishes, and underwear.
Its doors lead to who knows where.
Doors to let you out;
Doors to let me hear
When you're back again;
Welcoming your return.

Homes fill us
With memories
Houses never will.

In boxes full of nothing
A child learns to compose a ***** word.
While a woman
trapped, strapped, married to a bed
watches a drenched, shaken, homeless bird;
crying herself hoarse, until her heart begins to chafe.
The woman gets up, slaps the child, then takes him into her arms
The boxes full of nothing, she says to him, are strong but safe.