I pulled into the empty drive and all the lights were out.

Then suddenly I realized what this place was once about.

This used to be our home, where we all grew inside.

It’s too bad we grew apart and this part of us died.

You know a house, is just a house, when it is empty like this one,

There’s no joy and laughter here no singing or any fun.

There’s no one to meet me at the door now I go inside alone.

Yea an empty house, is just a house, where this was once a home.

I used to go inside this place and set down in my chair,

I would watch the evening news while the Mrs. cooked in there.

Now its just TV dinners for me, that I eat while I all alone.

In a cold house watching TV, no longer in-a nice warm home.

The grass needs a good mowin and the side walk could use an edge.

And I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, if someone cut the hedge.

But the looks don’t matter to me now, cause there aint no one at home.

Because now this is just a house, just a house, where I live alone.

Now theres  no one to jump up on my lap, and beg for time to play.

Or to ask me if I have time to fix some thing that broke that day.

Now this house just sets here quietly and we pass the time that way.

You know this house, is just a house, not the home where I used to stay.