I always wake up to my admirable home.
The home, I built without realization.
The home I do not get to keep forever.
My sanctum sanctorum!
My greatest varied valuable!
When the trumpet is heard,
I will return my home to its Landlord.
Six feet below the cold unfriendly soils,
this temple will gradually decay.
As the home gives a solemn rendition of her experiences;
pouring out the good and the bad,
sharing the beautiful and the ugly,
she will await the Master's eternal approval,
and receive her royal regalia from the King.
From above the earth and beneath the clouds,
songs of her legendary escapades will be heard.
And amidst the cheers, she will shake hands with Time
and murmur an "ayekoo" for all the times he was not on her side!
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