What does my building say about me?
A Church, an apartment
Or you might live in a tree
An Italianate, baroque palatial frieze
A facade on the cards or
a post office parquet
You might live in a bank
And call it Art
You might be a river rat
And think that you're smart
Does living in a vault mean you are at fault?
Or down by the green meadows
Not mean you're ever in shadows
For do we choose our homes
Or do they choose us
Each is a road to Rome
It is do it or go bust
But is it all as capricious as the wind
Torn by time and trust
Dumped down by the tempest
Having circumstances thrust upon us
Well wild is the wind
In the corner of the park
Wild winds blow chill in
The foreign country's dark
But run from your home
Or stay still and rust
It's all just a rolling stone
That gathers no moss
And happiness is a home
A home is where the heart is
Comfort and some bliss
On the road to Rome
Look out for your pension
Don't worry about inflation
Negative equity and property booms
On the Road to Rome
House price increase
Mortgage decrease
Only in a blue moon
How about not thinking
doom and gloom?
In the parking lot of common sense
Where the council takes its recompense
And even woodland elves help themselves
To the goodies on the shelves
Greed and self-reliance
Blowing hot air over vipers
Of envy and jealousy
And competing neighbours
And every day seems like a fight
But though I know that don't seem right
It's what makes the winning and the losing
An end in themselves
And so petty rivalries from conclusions
Drawn from some imagined illusions
Of another's backstabbing collusion
Should be vanquished like the night
Yet when truth shines on a light
As I know in my heart it might
Despite all dark forces of might
That bear the shadows of night
I cross my finger and the road
I just keeping carrying this load
Just wish to let go but don't
Because I believe in the light
No comments:
Post a Comment