Lletres: Hugh Cornwell. House Of Sorrow.

A dirty broom, an empty room
You'll never find a better tomb
Passing of a lasting chill
A night, a day and time stands still

The walls just stand, their stories cold
They watch a history unfold
The sink is dry, the fat don't fry
And still the reasons pass you by

When will the troubled soul descend and make amends?
When will some laughter come alive and walk inside?
Walk inside, walk inside

Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house

The door's don't shut the pipes just froze
The roof is cracked without a cause
You feel the sadness everywhere
You hear a creaking on the stair

And just to liven up your day
The spirit walks decides to stay
She wakes inside your living room
And suffocates you with her gloom

When will the troubled soul descend and make amends?
When will some laughter come alive and walk inside?
Walk inside, walk inside

Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house

When will the troubled soul descend and make amends?
When will some laughter come alive and walk inside?

Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow
A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house

A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house

A house of sorrow is a halfway house
A house of sorrow is a halfway house