There is a house upon the hill
Where no ones lived in many years
The roof is slowly caving in
The falling rain becomes its tears.
The whistling wind blows through the walls,
The broken porch became a snare
A lonely house that has no one
To sweep the cobwebs gathered there.
How sad to see that old house now
For once it sheltered those, who've gone.
Its frame once held someone to care
Enough to call their own sweet home.
Back when the house was called a home,
The porch lit up a welcome place
A well-kept home which warmed our hearts
Is empty, lifeless, without grace.
That house is like an empty soul
But God can fill it - if you'll pray -
"Dear Lord, be merciful to me;
Forgive me, wash my sins away."