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Pastimes : Deadheads -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: JakeStraw who wrote (22434)	8/10/2000 2:28:46 PM
From: SIer formerly known as Joe B.	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 49843

Father wears his Sunday best, Mother's tired, she needs a rest, The kids are playing up downstairs, Sister's sighing in her sleep, Brother's got a date to keep he can't hang around. Our house in the middle of our street, Our house in the middle of our... Our house, it has a crowd, There's always something happening And it's usually quite loud. Our mom, she's so house-proud, Nothing ever slows her down And a mess is not allowed. Our house in the middle of our street, Our house in the middle of our... Our house in the middle of our street, (Something tells you that you've got to get away from it) Father gets up late for work, Mother has to iron his shirt Then she sends the kids to school, Sees them off with a small kiss, She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways. I remember way back when everything was true and when We would have such a very good time, such a fine time, Such a happy time. And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away, Then we'd say nothing would come between us... Two dreamers. Father wears his Sunday best, Mother's tired she needs a rest, The kids are playing up downstairs, Sister's sighing in her sleep (ahhh), Brother's got a date to keep he can't hang around. Our house in the middle of our street, Our house in the middle of our... Our house was our castle and our keep, Our house in the middle of our... Our house, that was where we use to sleep, Our house in the middle of our... (Madness)