IN MY WHITE HOUSE

IN MY WHITE HOUSE

I heard a song on the radio
About a blue house painted white
It must have been a sad house
Oh, what a pitiful sight;
Then I thought of my very own
And wondered what he'd do
If he could live in my house
In my white house painted blue?

Would he still be missing her
The one he sings about?
And could he stop his crying
And live without a doubt?
Or would he guess, correctly
That I'm still missing you
While playing my ol' radio
In my white house painted blue.

I heard his song and wondered
If his blue house painted white
Hugs him close as mine does
And hears him cry all night?
Maybe he should burn it up
Like memories I've burnt of you
Then maybe he can live with me
In my white house painted blue.