Build yourself a home, a big cradle for you alone.

Coz your hands are made to pile up stones and boulders.

And your feet will hold all your soft and creaky bones.

On a strong and mighty foundation.



The first day gone by for the second to arise.

While your hands are already bein' busy.

And your mouth won’t speak coz your house will pay the prize.

There’s only time for peaceful dreamin’.



The light is called day, and the darkness called night.

Every man, woman, child had to face it.

And there was evenin’, and mornin’,

while tomorrow made a stay.

Fold your hands and bless the seventh day.



As the rolling of a cone, you roll into your home.

In the eavenin' your hands had made an entrance.

You can sit upon your throne, but there’s no roof above your crown.

Only clouds above you, movin'.



Yes the time will fly, but there’s no need to do or die.

Every step consist only out of numbers.

Only one step ahead is another back in time,

in the land of God’s creation.



The light is called day, and the darkness called night.

Every man, woman, child had to face it.

And there was evenin’, and mornin’,

while tomorrow made a stay.

Fold your hands and bless the seventh day.



While your eyes look true, and your head makes a review,

your steps are only waiting for inventions.

Well, everything you do will contain something new.

There’s no need to explain it.



Now your house is done, it’s a place for anyone.

If your needs, need rest and education.

If you’re lost or on the run and everything’s outdone.

This place will keep you warm.



© Tangarine