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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.
And when the day arrives I'll become the sky and I'll become the sea and the sea will come to read more
And when the day arrives I'll become the sky and I'll become the sea and the sea will come to kiss me for I am going home. Nothing can stop me now.
I want a house that has got over all its troubles; I don't want to spend the rest of my read more
I want a house that has got over all its troubles; I don't want to spend the rest of my life bringing up a young and inexperienced house.
Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.
Home is the girl's prison and the woman's workhouse.
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.
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant read more
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
Th' expectant wee-things, toddling, stacher thro'
To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee.
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.
Home is the place where it feels right to walk around without shoes
Home is the place where it feels right to walk around without shoes