The House

There I was sorta being a fanner
Flanning it up in the British summer
Then a house in the middle of suburban south London street
Called out to me
Less than exquisite
It be me to quiz it
I asked it is it possible to visit
The good old days
When all was great because people around here seem scared of late
The house said that's just human nature
People are easily fooled or faked to
Born in this place you only see so far
Unless you look properly then you see past
The color of nostalgia
The spot of farce
An empty shell as plastic as
They worry about it to late
Then invent a cop out
A fool hardy sentiment like

Wouldn't we just love things to be
The way that we imagine that they used to be
But actually weren't
But actually weren't

Wouldn't we just love things to be
The way that we imagine that they used to be
But actually weren't
But actually weren't

Then the house said
I remember when you were young
With your awkward ways and your silent tongue
Minque follows with fretful lies
I've been tarted up but I've been same inside
Same foundations, walls, and space
Same frustrations set in place
About past glories that were never there
But I was and still am

Constant, Stoic, Unheroic
Bricks and mortar an episodic mold
That flares up when it is cold
Just more signs I'm getting old
People want to feel assured
When they're both scared and rather boarded
So they dive into a lie about the past and times gone bye
And they say

Wouldn't we just love things to be
The way that we imagine that they used to be
But actually weren't
But actually weren't

Wouldn't we just love things to be
The way that we imagine that they used to be
But actually weren't
But actually weren't

Wouldn't we just love things to be
The way that we imagine that they used to be
But actually weren't