The house in black and white

It’s just a house in black and white

With chairs and bees and greenish sight

It’s not a house near the ocean

No breeze, no freeze, only devotion

That’s the house which is never open

It’s never crowded, it’s never chosen

But some may say I might be wrong

I just can’t see ‘cause I don’t belong

There’s always beer and it’s always cold

Love is always here if you want to behold

But whether you come and the voices are thready

Don’t worry my son, you are but unready

This is the house for ones who have passed

There’s no future here, they live but the past