I once loved a girl, but she couldn�t take that I visited troublesome houses. She�d say, when I got home, to leave her alone. She could taste trouble on my mouth.

When she was gone I missed her, I did...and still went to troublesome places. I couldn�t withstand a glorious day without seeing these troublesome faces.

And quiet eluded me, and keeps from me still, though I need my own bed and it�s solace.

Day�s noises steal in and copper my will, and I face the evils that follow us. I once had a house, and my family knew where to find me if ever they needed.

Troublesome houses were foreign to them.
They thought all papa�s orders I heeded. Now they can�t fnd me; they don�t have my numbers, and just hear reports of my doings.
Troublesome houses are not in their minds, though it�s in those I do all my moving.