In the house there's a family They kill invaders who come in They kill relatives who come out They have their theories Some police knock their door Some passengers look in They shout, chase them out How do they live? They grow food in the backyard Local and sweet But the weather isn't sweet So the day comes They feel starving and start eating their families Day by day, the house screams and gets empty It collapses, and their bones seen by everybody White and pure, like their souls --

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