There is a street in every town that owns a house called lonely.
Then when your just passing by you might just say "if only!
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it doesn't cure a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti sprayed on by some rebellious youth.
Such a lonely house and oh such a tired one, a house that has lost all its fun.
Stares and rafters all gone to pot all that is left is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden it's just a house, condemned by the council without no pardon.
Poor lonely house someones forgotten dream, now describing life's social scene.
This lonely house now stands in the way because they are building a bypass or a new motorway.
This house called lonely could be anywhere, in a country town or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting for someone to say if only.
Part Two The Sequel
Dark mountains flash in front of my eyes as most of the blue disappears from the sky's.
Then winter burrows itself into my brain as the dismal cold days return again.
The drab November where there are only wind falls to reap, all is but faded as the garden goes to sleep.
The Christmas candle shows no light in the hall, the bows are not decked there is nothing at all.
No Christmas Tree with it's fairy folly,no mistletoe and sprigs of holly.
Junk mail scattered all over the floor with weeds and ivy growing up the front door.
I remember the Christmases and the New Years but those were the days without any fears.
Children laughing and Auld Lang Syne everything was perfect and just divine.
I will hang on to my memories as the cold bites in just praying for the day to be a home within.
No one comes and no one views, what of my hopes just devastation and blues.
I am lost to world where there is no comfort of a home, because I am an empty old house forgotten and alone.
Part Three The Conclusion
Is that the sound of breaking glass and do I hear diggers driving over my grass.
Now they are pulling out my door, if they go any further one might fall through the floor.First the windows then the roof, why do those builders have to be so uncouth.
Boards ripped out from beneath my feet then thrown into a skip on the street.
Men with crash helmets come day after day,oh why don't they just go away.
Day in and day out it's becoming a regular routine I am becoming lost to the world with only a shell to be seen.
Then I start to think, who owns me now a property tycoon and will I be a home very soon.
No such chance as the bulldozer moves in and my solid brick walls are trembling within.
Brick by brick and stone by stone almost everything that I own.
Now all what's left is rubble and dust you might as well say I am down to the crust.
All my world is completely abolished and I as a house totally demolished.
In a few months they will build on my land, I hope it's a house fine and grand; but if I become part of the local bypass then I beg you to be careful and not to drive over my grass.
