thought of the home

we each desire to guard our own half-acre

no night must fall while we can hold command

you understand the only honest taker

the gift we know belongs once to the taker

who can obtain it cleanly from the hand

we each desire to guard our own half-acre

so much depends at last on the forsaker

who stands there silent faceless and quite bland

you understand the only honest taker

the salt is gritty when its in the shaker

and does not seem to be ready to hand

we each desire to guard our own half-acre

this is the moment for the final breaker

it is as if it had been ready planned

you understand the only honest taker

bread comes to us by virtue of the baker

we do not think of it as something grand

we each desire to guard our own half-acre

you understand the only honest taker