The Old Wooden House On The Hill

The Old Wooden House On The Hill

By Paul McCann

We told stories then as wee children

They were frightening and enlightening,

Don’t tell your Mother , we told each other

We shared every word and we were all scared .

Sitting on the crib , I’ll tell ye no fib,  

listen to me now I remember somehow,

a tale I once heard that might make you scared..

The house on the hill that made your blood chill 

It was made of wood and it understood ,
every word there .
Hey it's so unfair . don't knock on my door ,

don't walk on my floor ,can't anyone see ,
I once was a tree , you've taken too much ,
enough is enough .
The forest was mine and now it's a crime ,
how you've cut me down to build up a town .
Hey don't sit on me , once I was a tree , and now I'm a chair .
How dare you sit there .
Hey don't lie on me , once I was a tree , but now I'm a bed .
So don't rest your head ,

Have you said your prayers ?
Don't walk up the stairs .
Don't walk over me I once was a tree .
I reached to the sky , Tall and green was I .
But now look at me , you have killed a tree .
Can't you see your sins ?
You cut off my limbs , you've stolen my fruits ,
You've dug up my roots , the life I once knew ,
has gone thanks to you .

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