It's How the Story Started
It's how the story started
The house that was not my house -
I feel I must be quiet as a mouse,
Why do I not feel a happy gaze,
I feel I am winding through a maze.
Every time I wipe my feet at that door,
After walking constant mud on the floor!
It's how the story started,
Last time we left and parted.
Now I'm back and I will try,
And not keep asking 'Why oh why.
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