Its been my house since I was born
The place I've laughed and cried alone
To tell all things about my home
Would take too long a time to prone

But what I want you to get to know
Is things you never knew before
For a time my mind's been a weather cock
And my house suits me like a battered clock

In my house do leaves fall,
when the wind is blowing
And in my house does rain rain,
When the rain is raining
In my house do I dry,
When the sun is burning
And in my house do I  shiver,
When the night is chilling

My bed is also one of the biggest attractions of my home
In it do I go to sleep,
After the lizard uses it to pee
The place where I go to dream great dreams,
Is the cockroach's burial ground
For my bed receives his wings and limbs
After his life is gone

Sometimes I hear noises,
That make me wink and blink
And I go to check my upper bunk,
To find dry fish bones spilled by rats
From the roof on their way home

Neither is my desk a thing,
To go unmentioned about
Nor is it a property that deserves least
For being called for its grace
For it keeps receiving all those things,
I know not what to call
Day in and day out do I find things,
That arrive with a great big "bolt"
Maybe they are dried lizard droppings
Maybe they are battered black wood
But my desk receives them all with a  nod,
Not caring what they are called

I go to sleep with the lights on,
So that sister enjoys solitude
Then sis goes to sleep with lights on,
So that I enjoy solitude
Either way the thieves never come
For the lights are always on
And somebody is always up at home

My house has a roof that is burdened by
A lot of responsibilities to fulfill
By day it acts as a shelter
By night it leads mice home
It's great a thing for the roof to still live,
For once a heavy wind blew
And the roof had severe wounds on its head
That went unhealed for its age