Not In My House

This is all I've got today, Reader.

Here are words to a song I wrote this morning and a link to some audio of me singing them into my computer.  There is so much hate in our country right now, and all I can do about it at this moment is make a vow:

Not in my house.

Sending all my love to you until next Sunday,
Em

NOT IN MY HOUSE

Not in my house.  Not in my walls.  I only got love in these hallowed halls. 
Not in my house.  Take it outside.  Not on my table with blood on your mind.
 
I've got a home.  It’s just a small small flat, but it’s all I have to my name. 
Though it ain’t much, I am the keeper here of all the peace, my dear, in this place. 
If you come by trying to fight me, I’ll say:   

Not in my house.  Not in my walls.  I only got love in these hallowed halls.  
Not in my house.  Take it outside.  Not on my table with blood on your mind.

I got a soul.  It’s just a burning flame, lighting the hall of fame of my life. 
Though it ain’t much, I still believe it’s good.  It ain’t for you to put out tonight. 
If you come in trying to dim it, I’ll cry: 

Not in my house.  Not in my walls.  I only got love in these hallowed halls.  
Not in my house.  Take it outside.  Not on my table with blood on your mind.

I’m cleaning the dirt.  I’m filling my rooms.  With my simple words and my simple tunes.    
I’m singing the like hell of heavenly things.   Don’t poison my well and ask me to drink. 
  
Saints have been gone, they've been gone a real long while.  But I can feel their style here today. 
The whole world’s a church for us to contemplate, but were it used in hate or disdain, 
Them holy ghosts would draw close, and they’d pray:

Not in my house.  Not in my walls.  I only got love in these hallowed halls.  
Not in my house.  Take it outside.  Not on my table with blood on your mind.

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