This House - Courtney Marie Andrews

Lift up on the door, on the old rusted hinge

The lock might be fickle, it’s always been

But it’s a sweet old place to keep our memories in

This house ain’t much of a house, but it’s a home

Empty cans on the counter, and the laundry is never done

The dogs tracked in snow and mud

For every rose there’s a weed, but every weed is welcome

This house ain’t much of a house, but it’s a home

The faucet might leak

The staircase might creak

The heater takes a while to kick in

But there’s a whole lot of laughter and love

This house, this house is our home

There’s a bed upstairs if you’re ever in town

Or if you need a place to get your feet back on the ground

There’s coffee in the cupboard, take any food you want out

My house, my house is your home

Tucker’s buried in the yard

Under that old oak we carved

That porch is where you and I first kissed

And there’s no shortage of laughter or love

This house, this house is our home

This house, this house is our home