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Built this house out of cedar wood, |
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And I laid the beams by hand. |
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One for every false heart I had known, |
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One for the true heart I planned. |
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Laid the windows tight against the wind, |
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So in the winter we'd be warm. |
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I built a bedroom out of solid oak, |
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Safety from the storm. |
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This house is burning. |
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This home is on fire. |
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When you whisper to the walls, |
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It's another's name you call. |
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Even your tongue's become a liar. |
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This house is on fire. |
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Stole the heart of a cherry wood, |
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And I built a door to last. |
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It was thick enough to keep all thieves away, |
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When the long nights came to pass. |
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Then one day there was a hint of spring, |
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And there were roses in the air. |
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We opened wide enough to let you in, |
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I was glad to share. |
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This house is burning. |
|
This home is on fire. |
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When you whisper to the walls, |
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It's another's name you call. |
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Even your satin sheets are liars. |
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And this house is on fire. |
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I said, I've built a good foundation. |
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Built on faith and hope. |
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But the fireplace is strong, |
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Put it out when you are gone, |
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Or the whole damned thing, |
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Will go up in smoke. |
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This house is burning. |
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This home is on fire. |
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When you whisper to the walls, |
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It's another's name you call. |
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Even your body is a liar. |
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And this house is on fire. |
