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Small House
by
Mark Mitchell
Family of five, twelve hundred square feet
One bathroom brings closeness, and only one seat
We're shoulder to shoulder, a family warehoused nice and neat
Closeness forces involvement with each other, a fact that's tough to beat
There's no secrets here, we know each other's greatest fears
We share each other's successes, which brings many cheers
The failures we all shoulder, as well as the tears
Which led to the wife and I having more than our share of beers
Our friends have fled to suburbia, in search of the American dream
Actually they had it all along, or so it would seem
So much floor space for everyone, their lives rarely cross
They live as individuals, not family, what a loss
Large houses, small treeless yards with little grass
Plus they're in a mortgage all the way up to their ass
Our kids knew they had roots down as they grew
Their friends were always on the move, they never had a clue
It's tough to blame them though, their parents never knew
Deep roots hold a family together with a bond like glue
So now the kids are grown and gone, it's just me and the wife
We've instilled in them what family really is to carry in their life
Years from now they'll drive by the only childhood house they've known
Their eyes will well up as they tell their family, "That small house was my
home"
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