Well this house it seems was built on a hill
When I sleep in my bed I always sleep still
The sun's hot fingers push through the blinds
You open them and the light hurts my eyes
Going down to Bristol on the early train line
For a funeral of a man that I can't bring to mind
Crawling back to the back of the line
I join you there and you say that you're fine
I saw a man hanging from a crane
His feet to the floor and his face to the rain
He could not see the point anymore
Said his heart to his feet and his feet to the floor
Well I looked around but no one else saw
They were all plugged in faced away from it all
This house it seems was built on a hill
When I sleep in my house I always sleep still
This house it seems was built on a hill
Well I miss my town so I never sleep still