This is the house I live in
the eyes are in the walls
hands beckon behind the sofa
the blood drips on the floor

This is the house we live in
look underneath our beds
we are so much closer to heaven
because we bring it to the test

This is the house we live in
there's no way of seeing in
we bordered up our insanity
so tight we cannot breathe

This is the house we live in
the one that smells of death
the one that we came to die in
and just couldn't keep to ourselves

This is the house I live in
no plastic on the floor
do you think they'll wash it off
the blood and the pain that it's absorbed

This is the house I live in
i'd invite you in to see
four walls make a home
this house is made of you and me

This is the house we live in
the writing's on the wall
we built this house together
you never screamed very loud at all

'If rape, poison, daggers, arson
Have not yet embroidered with their pleasing designs
The banal canvas of our pitiable lives,
It is because our souls have not enough boldness.'- Baudelaire