I only want to be there to kiss you
As you want to be kissed when you need to be kissed
Where I want to kiss you
Cause it’s my house and I plan to live in it
I really need to hug you
When I want to hug you as you like to hug me
Does this sound like a silly poem
I mean it’s my house
And I want to fry pork chops and bake sweet potatoes and call them yams Cause I run the kitchen and I can stand the heat
I spent all winter in carpet stores gathering patches
So I could make a quilt
Does this really sound like a silly poem
I mean I want to keep you warm
And my windows might be dirty but it’s my house
And if I can’t see out sometimes
They can’t see in either
English isn’t a good language to express emotion through
Mostly I imagine
Because people try to speak English instead of trying to speak through it
I don’t know
Maybe this is a silly poem
I’m saying it’s my house
And I’ll make fudge
And call it love
And touch my lips to the chocolate warmth
And smile at old men and call that revolution
Cause what’s real is really real
And I still like men in tight pants
Cause everybody has some thing to give
And more important needs something to take
And this is my house and you make me happy
So this is your poem
[Instrumental]

Cause everybody has some thing to give
And more important needs something to take
And this is my house and you make me happy
So this is your poem