Everything in my house is moving,

Everything in my house is grooving,

Everything in my house is singing in it’s soothing voice.

Everything in my house is dancing without a choice, clinging close because of it’s insecurities.

Only one thing stands inanimate with his maturities.

My bed, for as long as I have rested my head or sat there after a fit.

As i’ve said and i’ll repeat it again.

Everything in my house is moving, even the statue hen.

Everything in my house is grooving, the pen danced off again.

Everything in my house chanced to sing in it’s soothing voice.

There hey lay, my bed where I shall sleep in at the end of the day, he doesn’t have a choice anyway...