Large and expensive, small and cosy – a house may give some idea of the kind of person who lives there. Plain or ugly, fat or thin, a body may also give a message. But appearances can be deceiving.
I’m not the house I live in,
I’m not the bricks and stone.
I am the one who lives here
The house is just on loan.
A house that’s clean and tidy
May show the tenant’s care,
But it’s a pale reflection
Of who is living there.
The other house I live in
That everyone can see,
Flesh and blood, these bones, this shape
It isn’t really me.
I hope the life I’m living
Contains sometimes a clue
To who I am inside here
And where I’m going to.
For I was born a spirit
And God marked out for me
A path, a purpose waiting
A certain destiny.
So Heaven’s where I’m heading.
My time on earth is brief,
I’m not the house I live in
And this is my belief.
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