Favoured Performer Madness (Background Image by The-Creative-One from Pixabay)
Father wears his Sunday best
Mother's tired, she needs a rest, the kids are playing up downstairs
Sister's sighing in her sleep
Brother's got a date to keep, he can't hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, it has a crowd
There's always something happening, and it's usually quite loud
Our mum, she's so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down, and a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
Our house, in the middle of our street
(Something tells you that you've got to move away from it)
Our house, in the middle of our
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt, then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She's the one they're going to miss in lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our
I remember way back then, when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time, such a fine time, such a happy time
And I remember how we'd play, simply waste the day away
Then we'd say nothing would come between us, two dreamers
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street