This Old House

This old house that I call home
At the top of the hill it sits alone
Two big windows looking out the front
A door in the middle, sometimes it’s hard to shut

It’s holding up but it’s aging still
It’s missing bits of roof and sagging around the window sills
Before you walk in you better take a breath
‘Cause the air in this old house is never fresh

All the drawers are filled with useless facts
And boxed-up opinions line the halls in stacks
Still there’s something rottin' underneath the floor
I tried to kill it with alcohol but it came back worse

It’s bad at night when everything gets quiet
Sometimes I swear this old house is alive
I don’t mean the mice living here rent-free
I mean the ghosts and shadows that never let me sleep

Sometimes I want to burn it to the ground
Or take a wrecking ball and knock a few walls down
Someday I might but it’s not today
I think I’ll start by throwing half of this junk away

After that I guess I’m gonna sweep the floor
Maybe see what I can do about that door
Clear out the closets, fold the clothes,
And open the windows and let some sunlight in
Let some sunlight in