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When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that read more
When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need.
Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
read more
The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land.
Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.
Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby read more
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.
For a man's house is his castle.
For a man's house is his castle.
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores read more
Estate agents. You can't live with them, you can't live with them. The first sign of these nasty purulent sores appeared round about 1894. With their jangling keys, nasty suits, revolting beards, moustaches and tinted spectacles, estate agents roam the land causing perturbation and despair. If you try and kill them, you're put in prison: if you try and talk to them, you vomit. There's only one thing worse than an estate agent but at least that can be safely lanced, drained and surgically dressed. Estate agents. Love them or loathe them, you'd be mad not to loathe them.
There's nobody at home
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
There's nobody at home
But Jumping Joan,
And father and mother and I.
