Inside this house, the walls are paper thin
And it don't take no genius to know what's goin' on inside
You can run and hide, but they know you far too well
And see it don't much to know what's goin' on inside
This house, this house
This house, it has no living room
This house, this house
Well, inside of here, I know it all too well
Every single floor that I won't dwell no more
'Cause this is where I reside
It's no boulevard or drive
It's just me, myself, and I, oh, what a ride, inside
This house, this house
This house, just has no living room
This house, this house
It's the box you come in
It's the body you draw
Or the shell that you wearin'
'Til the day that you die
It's your house, your house
It's your house, your house
It's your house, your house
It's your house, your house
Gang, gang, go, go, your house
Your house, your house
Your house, your house
Your house, your house
And everyone that you have loved will meet again
And everyone that you have lost will meet again
And everyone that you have loved will meet again
And everyone that you have lost will meet again
And everyone that you have loved will meet again
And everyone that you have lost will meet again
And everyone that you have loved will meet again
And everyone that you have lost will meet again

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): ELLIOT SCOTT RAWSON, OLIVER HENRY BURSLEM, VINCENT DAVIES