This house is my home Its bust heaving with the weight of 1000 milkmaids It nourishes me with hope Dreams of drunken delusions Screens of toxic collusions A sweaty seat of a pleather fusion Each cloth I wipe away a stain Each toilet roll marks a passing day Beyond repetition I fold clothes like decisions You will be my mother and you my father In the night I will come down And make some corn flakes Oh golden crunch Goodnight I say The curtains crossfade