Would you have a name and sing to me
Like Graceland and the Jungle Room,
Like Neverland before its doom?
Would passing folks discern a trace of Strauss
And dance to Don Juan in E major, I reckon
Would your beauty beckon?
Would you be a home or just a house?
Would there be wooden floors and distant shores —
A Bora beach house, chestnut doors?
I hear you'd be real solid, mocking hurricanes and Toto too
None of that baloney or a witch's blue suede shoe
There's no place like home — yeah, right...
And then you'd take a leak on me in the middle of the night:
A pool's a pool and this one is for free?
Would your owners love you like a fallen child,
Then fix you up and drive me wild?
Would you be detached and hump-hump proof?
Would your dirty neighbor like to nail your pretty roof?
Would you be new?
Tell me about your view
Is cleaning you a chore?
Tell me more
Tell me about the ghosts that haunt your core
Tell me about your gate and dogs and bars
And how you'd be the prize of family wars
If you were a house, what kind of house would you be?
Would you be real cozy, small... like me?
Would you inspire poets on a sunny winter's day
Would your colors be in tune with another rise of May?
Does any of this ring true?
Tell me: what kind of house are you?
* * *
If You Were... a Car
If You Were... a Fruit
If You Were... a Shoe
If You Were... a Song
If You Were... a Toy
If You Were... a Word