no fire in my kitchen
no kitchen you see
but i fry up & boil for
my pleasure & me
my bed has no trestle
my trestle no bed
but no man i know rests
a happier head
my house has no door
my door has no house
& always my sweetheart
she comes & she goes
my cellar is high
my barn it is deep
all topsy & turvy
i lay down to sleep
& sharpish awaking
i’m off at a pace
at no place i’m stopping
my stopping’s no place
my house has no door
my door has no house
& always my sweetheart
she comes & she goes
it’s over the gate
higher than noon
jumping a thistle
whistling a tune
i’m making it up
i can’t tell a lie
hands on the ground
shoes in the sky
my house has no door
my door has no house
& always my sweetheart
she comes & she goes
