My house is haunted, there's a crippled gost in my cat. We live alone, it's better tht way.
There's booby traps in the backyard, to welcome your arrival, as the starving dogs salivate.
I've commited no crime, I've admitted my sins. My private hideaway ain't a public thing.
And if you get too close, and if you stare too long, through my megaphone you'll hear my little song.
What do you want? Why are you here? Didksomeone say come in or welcome? The gate, the lock, isn't it clear?
Some say I'm paranoid, and try to bring me pills. They say my love is overkill.
'Cause I dance with my Cyclops, although he's stuffed, swaying to the sounds of the chanting monks. My home ain't a museum and my land is not a zoo.
I like my space, how about you? So leave me alone!
