BORNOVA 1983....Five Minutes Past The Spring
ı am stunned
the inspector
nur dogan topaloglu
good for nothing
wrote the report about me
and the minister interior Çetiner
has given the last order
It is my destiny
I am here
like a house
like a hotel
like a guest house
ı t is 1983
the winds of 12 september
are blowing harshly and fiercely
the season is five passed the spring
ı have just made the anniversary 40th of my life
in my hand ı carrieda big white suı t-CASE
in it some books
my suı ts..underwear and my socks stinking
mixed up...like my head
ı say..here is asylum
a mental hospital
you can exaggerate and saY mental house
ma be a mad house
ı does ot matter who says what
ı am at the door
ı have passed my schools steadı ly
did my works obidiently
without protest
damn me if ı wanted a little thing for myself
but ı could not pass this nonesense mental test
do mnot telll my poor mother
she lives alone in our country
she thinks ı am still a mad governor on duty
she does not know ı have been sent here officially
thanks
ı will lie in open section
what would happen if ı lay in the closed sectı on
at detentı on
no hope of goı ng out
seeing the sky
a theatre play was being displayed
when ı stepped in
my new friends
men and women gathered in the hall
sar aronud a wide table
some were comlaı nı g of his wife
some of her husband
and some of their beloved
some came here as asylum
getting bored of outer life
they told me
later the play ended
at last they saw me..
eyes zooming on me
though ı am not a stranger
ı am one of them
officially regarded mad
forced to be mad
ı am not a stranger for them
the a blonde young nurse clad in white
came and showed me the room ı would stay
with unbeleı vı ng eyes
a new theatre play was opening its curtains
in my life
a door was being shut after me
never knowing when it would be opened for me again
ı lay on my desolate bed
thoughts mixed in my dreams
ı t was the year 1983
ı have yet 5 minutes passed my spring
not guessing when the bells of life for me
will again ring...
poem by Metin Sahin
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Related quotes
Booby Trap
perfect beauty
from toronto
new attraction
or some heartthrob
was it all just a deathtrap,
pulled me in and then shut snaps? stupid.
did it make you
come to get me?
or am i just
going mental?
i am not a pushover.
how did i get run over? stupid.
play like a lil bitty boy. (play on)
with your grubbery toy (play on)
oh, its just a matter time (play on)
till the day im gonna get mine.
i am not a
play like
did it make you
come to get me?
or am i just
going mental? (going mental)
or am i just (or am i just)
going mental? (going mental)
or am i just (or am i just)
going mental? (going mental)
(or am i just)
(going mental)
(or am i just)
(going mental)
i am not
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The House
We dont talk much
We dont make love like we used to
And I stay guarded
Ive got walls and triggers
I never thought I had
And so do you
But this is love
And thats the way we seem content to play it
I touch your clothes when youre gone
I let your scent wash over me
You cry at night and you wish just like a child
That we were how we used to be
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
I stonewall you, you stonewall me
But we both know that
Hiding deep inside us
Lives the love that we try hard to lose
And never will
But this is war
And thats the way we seem content to fight it
I get so angry and confused cause
I want out but I want you
You cant decide between moving out or moving in
You dont know what to do
With a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like you
And he looks like me
Is this the same girl that, I fought so hard to win
And now I fight to lose her
Now I feel that its just like skin to skin
And nerve to nerve
Strung out like wire
Is that the way we are content to live
We face off in anger
In rooms once filled with love
Looking for a chink in the armour
Where we can stab the blade
What are we thinking of
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
And she looks like somebody from a lifetime ago
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
Theres a stranger in the house
In the house
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Go Mental
Out of the hospital out against my will
Life is so beautiful Ive gone mental
Mental mental
Ive killed my family they thought I was an oddity
Life is so beautiful I am a vegetable
Mental mental
Ive gone mental Ive gone mental
Staring at my goldfish bowl popping phenobarbitol
Life is so beautiful Ive gone mental mental mental
Sitting on my window sill life is so beautiful
Ive become irrational Ive gone mental
Mental mental Ive gone mental
song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In The House
This never was one of the great romances
But I thought youd always have those young girls eyes
But now they look in tired and bitter glances
At the ghost of a man who walks round in my disguise
I get the feeling that I dont belong here
But theres no welcome in the window anyway
And I look down for a number on my keychain
cause it feels more like a hotel everyday
Theres a stranger in the house; nobodys seen his face
But everybody says hes taken my place
Theres a stranger in the house no one will ever see
But everybody says he looks like me
And now you say youve got no expectations
But I know you also miss those carefree days
And for all the angry words that passed between us
You still dont understand me when I say
Theres a stranger in the house; nobodys seen his face
But everybody says hes taken my place
Theres a stranger in the house no one will ever see
But everybody says he looks like me
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Real Fengshui
his door faced the bend of a bridge
they told him that would bend his luck, so
he had the door torn down and bore through
a wall for a new door, one that faces
the Sun well for the sunshine of life
her door opened to the sharp edge
of a building she thought was the
inauspcious razor that had slashed
her chances in life, so with much incisive
belittlements of her neighbours,
she hung a ba kua mirror to throw back
what she thought should be theirs to keep
another one with the same predicarment
bought a large cannon to aim it at the poison arrow
she thought would overpower the bad influences
one man tore down a whole house
spending a few hundred thousands on
a fengshui expert to plan him a house
with all the good fengshui, a pyramid
he thought would be a panacea of
bad omens, where dreams perpetually come true
but to get the toilet, kitchen and living room in
the right paths of the stars, the house had bore
a hole right through his pocket
fortunately he is well heeled
the forces of wind and water
have like typhoon swept a flurry
of cash into the the coffers of
fengshui masters these days -
they sure had set the lucky winds
blowing in the right places
hopefully fengshui adherents
had had their bad angels swept
into oblivion never to return
perhaps there is another house
that needs all the fengshui care too
our spiritual, emotional and mental growth
needs the fengshui of the mind
to keep them strong - so that those
doors of success, failure, trails, tribulations
we could face with the right canon of faith,
courage and confidence
the house over our shoulders
is where the art of fengshui has to
come first for what we do reflects the
order of the chairs, tables and books
in the library of our heads
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Open House
Please
Come over to 81st street Im in the apartment
Above the bar
You know you cant miss it, its across from the subway
And the tacky store with the mylar scarves
My skins as pale as outdoors moon
My hairs silver like a tiffany watch
I like lots of people around me but dont kiss hello
And please dont touch
Its a czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me
The way to make friends andy is invite them up for tea
Open house
Open house
Ive got a lot of cats, heres my favorite
Shes lady called sam
I made a paper doll of her, you can have it
Thats what I did when I had st.vitus dance
Its a czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me
Give people little presents so they remember me
Open house
Open house
Someone bring the vegetables
Someone please bring heat
My mother showed up yesterday
We need something to eat
I think I got a job today they want me to draw shoes
The ones I drew were old and used
They told me to draw something new
Open house
Open house
Fly me to the moon
Fly me to a star
But there are no stars in the new york sky
Theyre all on the ground
You scared yourself with music, I scared myself with paint
I drew 550 different shoes today, it almost made me faint
Open house
Open house
Open house
Open house
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stranger In My Own House
(a capella: she said: boy, your luck is running out...she make me feel like a stranger...in my own house)
I come stumbling in at a quarter to three
To the sound of my own dog growlin at me
Im scared to move or turn on a light
Youve got me creepin around in the dark
Like a thief in the night
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got no place to live
I never feel at home
I walk into the kitchen to see whats there
Im tired and Im hungry but the cupboards bare
Ive been working all day and all night too
I cant believe this is all I have to come back to
I guess Ill take a look upstairs, in the danger zone
I wonder what Im doing here
When I never feel at home
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im a stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
I see the do not disturb sign on my bedroom door
What is this sheet and pillow laying on the floor
I wore out my welcome
I hear you loud and clear
Its time to get a few things straight around here
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
Ive got a place to live but I never feel at home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Stranger in my own house
Ill huff and Ill puff and Ill blow this house down
Cant be a stranger in my own house
Ive got no excuse, I should have known
With a woman like you Im better off alone
Im a stranger in my own house
Ive got the keys to the door
But Im still locked out
Im just a stranger in my own house
Oh, honey Im home
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
You got a lion on your hands girl, not a mouse!
Im just a stranger in my own house
Im just a stranger in my own house
Well, somebodys got to go...
Stranger
Stranger
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mystery House
That door had been shut for years
No sound ever passed its ears
Its eyes were starved, for light,
Inside was just silent Night
Why was it closed, what had it been
Had it some kind of mishap seen
Was it waiting for its master, last,
To free it from some spell he cast
The wood cracked, the metal, rusted
cobwebs on its top vested
' The house of ghosts ',
it was taunted
Little John too knew the house was haunted
Eerie spirits, you could hear all night,
poor Ken, you see, huddled in fright
mother forbade, no one went close
into the death trap, none tried nor chose
' The Winchester House ', it was named once
None gave the manor's house a glance
I believe the house, will forever remain
Yet none its mystery will ever explain.
poem by Vishnu Sampoorn
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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi
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ZZZ 6. First Anniversary
Since the day I asked you to marry me
Much time has passed since I was on my knee
You said ‘YES’ and nodded your head
We set the date and soon we were wed
We’re now tied together and now became one
We look to the future and it has officially begun
We bought our white Mazda and put on some miles
There seems to be no end to all of the smiles
Canuck English is growing and now something new
We started Good Times! Events Planning – yes it’s true!
My babes and I are bosses, we’re business tycoons
Even though we work with clowns and funny balloons
We still go to Starbucks – but sometimes Pacific Coffee
To interview new workers and discuss their hourly fee
Yea, there’re lots of losers but we’re sure of one thing
The law of attraction brings positive back like a spring
We don’t care anymore no matter how the dumb are dumber
We got travel plans for Xi’an and Qinghai for this summer!
Spades is still our only baby but now we been thinking
We should have our own, changing pooey diapers stinking
But for now it’s not time, coz there’s more to unravel
My girl dreams of Greece and Italy to travel
Yes I look forward to it all with my new wife
It will be one heck of a time for the rest of our life
My wife still loves me and still licks my ear
She whispers ‘boom-boom’ and ‘mape you’ to her dear
Yes life will be beautiful- no clouds but real clear
No jealousy, no cheating, no sadness nor fear
And holy cow, can it really be? It’s already been one year
It’s June 29th, our first anniversary is here
Happy Anniversary!
poem by Mason Maestro
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An Invitation.
She invited Joey
to her apartment
on the second floor
and as she opened the door
her dog came
barking along the hall
Shut up Bonaparte
she said
Go away
and the mutt walked back
with its tail
between its legs
to its basket
under the table
and she ushered Joey in
and closed the door behind her
and said
What would you like to drink?
tea coffee coke beer?
Coke will be fine
he said
and she told him
to go sit in the lounge
and once he sat down
he looked around the room
and on the small table
by the sofa where he sat
was a photograph of her
and her husband
taken on their wedding day
she dressed in white
and smiling
and he in a black suit
like a hit man
in a mobster movie
and she came in
with his coke
and set it on the table
by the sofa
and then went out again
swaying her behind
which made him smile
then she was back
with a tall glass
of white wine
and she set it down
on the table beside him
and sat down
and began talking
about the night
he had met her
and her husband
in the bar in town
and how she had invited
him over to meet her husband
and he had bought them
both a drink
and while her husband
talked to his friend
she had flirted with him
and made him laugh
and how after that
they'd all meet
on Friday evenings
in the same bar
and her husband
had invited him
to their place
to play chess
and he remembered
how he used to play chess
holding off letting
her husband win
so he could stay longer
and see her more often
and then she leaned over
to get her drink
and she put one hand
on his thigh
and reached over
for her wine
and he smelt her scent
and the brush of her hair
as she leaned over him
and having her glass
she leaned back
her hand still resting
on his thigh
and that look of mischief
burning in her eye.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Blind Girl
she was blind
but that is life
relentless life
she was blind
but young and beautiful
blonde
like an angel in heaven
sometimes she feels
as if she is in prison
sometimes cries and weeps lonely..all alone
sighing
like every woman
this young beautiful girl has also a heart
to love and to be loved by
she sometimes giggles and soimetimes laughs
in whispers and in louds
it was life
relentless life
she was blind and blonde
she was young and beautiful
and like every other woman has a heart
never the less
in anyway
her parents left her to a mental hospital
in which the government had put me in
to live and to be protected
because the beauty is always
in danger on this world
angels cannot survive alone on this world
it is a relentless cruel and cruel world
she was blind
she was beautiful
she was blonde
she had also a heart like every woman to be loved
i talked wih her in whisper noise
she loved my voice
and reconciled a bit
one day
on a sunday morning
she came from closed section to visit me
and drink tea with me
smiling and with joy
i tried to boil the water
just then
as always in my life
seeing the beauty near me
the nurse came angrily
did her duty again
she scolded the blind beauty
what are you doing here with this man
go to your section
a very cruel thing to mention
this happened long long ago
in the mental hospital i was staying too
the beautiful blind dissappeared and flew away
weeping..fearing and crying
where had she gone
i have never known
I have never seen her again
she was beautiful and young
blonde as an angel
she had also a heart to love and to be loved by
but it is that relentless life
she was blind
and the world and its nurses are cruel and relentless too
where must this angel be
that was long long ago
perhaps she is in heaven
may be happy there
flying flying and flying with joy
nobody will never know
may be waiting for my voice
to call her
Metin SAHIN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Shifting the House
He lived in my heart for a long time
When life was in its metre and rhyme.
When the house became shabby
He was reminded of his old hobby.
He searched out a house newly raised
Day and night its beauty he praised.
Then one day he took all his luggage
And left the house bag and baggage.
He was welcomed with open arms
He got lost in its fascinating charms.
He enjoyed a long passage of time
As long as life was in its rhyme.
Insted of house now he became old
Over the change he had no hold.
Now the house wanted to shift him
Because the light of his eyes was dim.
Wrinkles are not to be cherished
Now he was only to perish.
According to the misery's demand
He was proper for dust or sand.
He wa kinly sent to a house of clay
It was the dropp scene of life's play.
As it was a house most shabby
To change house was his hobby.
He was waiting for a good shift
That may prove a good gift.
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
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Theatre Of The Absurd
(ian hunter)
My tea turned seven shades darker
As I sit n write these words
And londons gettin paler
In my theatre of the absurd.
You figured for an evening
And you made it all worthwile.
Its seldom people have a job
And even rarer that I smile.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
And if your songs be classics,
Throw them to the hurd.
Truth is where they came from
And not this theatre of the absurd.
Some say you wanted to play for me
But its only what youve heard
That made you want to capture me
In your theatre of the absurd.
It was not me, I said myself
And you must do so, too.
I hope you have the strength to stay
When Ill be watchin you.
So baby,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
Oh when I got here back home tonight
Something within me stirred.
Oh it must have been a different kind of play
That touched my theatre of the absurd.
Now Ill be on my way alone
But an interesting thing occurred
See nobody ever shared too much
In my theatre of the absurd.
And there I was back in london,
Thought about history.
It was just like being in school again
But I felt something movin in me.
Hearin just a bit of the future,
Oh its comin and its still blurred
And thats the only thing worth living for
In my theatre of the absurd.
Come on,
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Teach your children to be them
And never ever ours.
Oh play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Someone took the park away
But they left a lonely flower.
(beautiful)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
(john, come on)
Play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, (come on, eric) play me some,
Play me brixton power.
Oh, play me some, play me some,
Play me brixton power.
...
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lazy Man's Song
I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;
I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it.
My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it.
My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them.
I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink;
So it's just the same as if my cellar were empty.
I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play;
So it's just the same as if it had no strings.
My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house;
I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind.
My friends and relatives write me long letters;
I should like to read them, but they're such a bother
to open.
I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh1
Passed his whole life in absolute idleness.
But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals,
So even he was not so lazy as I
Queen Of Rain
In that big big house there are fifty doors and one of them leads to your heart. in the time of spring I passed your gate and tried to make a start. all I knew was the scent of sea and dew but i
Een in love before, how about you?
Theres a time for the good in life, a time to kill the pain in life, dream about the sun you queen of rain.
In that big old house there are fifty beds and one of them leads to your soul. its a bed of fear, a bed of threats, regrets and sheets so cold. all I knew your eyes so velvet blue, Ive been in
Before, how about you?
Theres a time for the good in life...
Its time to place your bets in life, Ive played the losers game of life, dream about the sun you queen of rain.
Time went by as I wrote your name in the sky, fly fly away, bye bye.
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Black House On The Corner
I passed by that house everday,
wondering what lurked inside of it,
was their some kind of ancient evil inside,
or a normal family that we never saw,
a house of macarbe,
it was painted black like the devil's sin,
it was surrouned by devilish-looking,
figures that stood outside on the line,
was also surrounded by a black pointed fence,
rumors of the devil himself living there,
the devil in the flesh,
satan living on my street corner,
The black house on the corner,
can't you see it,
you must walk past it everyday to,
dosen't your mind wander,
when you walk by The black house,
don't you to know what lays inside of the house,
maybe a ton of dead bodies under the floor boards,
a madman butcherd up his family,
could that be true,
or are our young minds racing again,
with impure and insane thoughts about,
who or what lives in the black house on the corner,
the black house,
painted with the devil's sin,
We were told to stay away from the black house,
that so many evils lived inside of it,
but us being kids we didn't want to live,
we wanted to see what was inside of the black house on the corner,
But we are to afraid to go forward,
we are to afraid to step through the gate,
and walk up the beaten path to the door bell,
it looks so old and so evil,
The black house on the corner,
we shall never know what evilness,
or what macabre force resides within,
the black house on the corner,
whatever you do,
don't go into the black house on the corner,
stay away from,
the black house on the corner,
it holds so many evils,
the black house on the corner,
poem by Robert Rumery
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The House with Nobody in It
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At Home
When I was dead, my spirit turned
To seek the much-frequented house:
I passed the door, and saw my friends
Feasting beneath green orange boughs;
From hand to hand they pushed the wine,
They sucked the pulp of plum and peach;
They sang, they jested, and they laughed,
For each was loved of each.
I listened to thier honest chat:
Said one: "To-morrow we shall be
Plod plod along the featureless sands,
And coasting miles and miles of sea."
Said one: "Before the turn of tide
We will achieve the eyrie-seat."
Said one: "To-morrow shall be like
To-day, but much more sweet."
"To-morrow," said they, strong with hope,
And dwelt upon the pleasant way:
"To-morrow," cried they, one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had passed away:
"To-morrow and to-day," they cried;
I was of yesterday.
I shivered comfortless, but cast
No chill across the table-cloth;
I, all-forgotten, shivered, sad
To stay, and yet to part how loth:
I passed from the familiar room,
I who from love had passed away,
Like the remembrance of a guest
That tarrieth but a day.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do You Want To Play House
Call me ready, call me ready or not
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Give it all I got
Call me in the morning, when Im half asleep
Rivers runnin high on the mountain deep
Call me deadly, call me deadly serious
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
I couldnt care enough
Call me when you want to control the vice
Ill defend your honor when you roll the dice
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house of love?
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house,playin in the house of love
Call me over, call me over the top
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Never wanna stop
Call me on hire when youre in your shell
Wanna be your fire, wanna ring your bell
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house
Playin in the house of love
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house,
Playin in the house, playin in the house of love?
Call me never, call me never say die
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Take me alive
Call me undercover when you bake your bread
Wanna be your lover, wanna make your bed
Do you waana play house..........
(rankin, agnew)
Bob n weave music (dunfermline)
Copyright 1992 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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