House of Rags
Andeavor Lyrics
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On the streets forever
Daily news to lay my head
The future seems like never
Holes in my pockets, holes in my soles
Chewed out by neighbors
Four-legged theives steal my daily bread
That last week lost its flavor
Baptised in the morning rain
I scrub away a month's debris
But never rinsing out the pain
Cannot recall what once was me
Holes in my memory, holes in my soul
Chewed out by what I believe
Begging, wishing, hoping, stealing
Knowing I can never leave
Sleeping on a bed of stone
Living in a house of rags
Nothing else to call my own
Dying for a house of rags
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray to God I never wake up
Sleeping on a bed of stone
Living in a house of rags
Nothing else to call my own
Dying for a house of rags
The lyrics in Andeavor's song "House of Rags" speak of the struggles of being homeless and the harsh reality of living on the streets. The first verse paints a vivid picture of the daily struggle, with the singer sitting in a makeshift shelter made of cardboard and reading the daily news to lay their head. The future seems bleak and uncertain, with holes in their pockets and soles and neighbors who aren't sympathetic to their plight. Four-legged thieves steal their food, and the last week has lost its flavor, perhaps indicating a feeling of hopelessness.
The second verse shifts to the emotional toll of homelessness. The singer is baptized in the morning rain, washing away the physical grime of the past month, but unable to rinse out the pain of their situation. There are holes in their memory and soul, likely indicating a lack of purpose or direction in life. The singer begs, wishes, and hopes for a way out, and even resorts to stealing, but knows deep down they can never truly leave their situation.
The chorus repeats the phrase "sleeping on a bed of stone, living in a house of rags" to reinforce the dire and hopeless situation the singer finds themselves in. They have nothing else to call their own and are dying for a way out. The final line, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to God I never wake up," reveals the depths of the singer's hopelessness, as they would rather cease to exist than continue living in their current state.
Overall, "House of Rags" is a poignant take on the struggles of homelessness and the difficult emotions that come with extreme poverty.
Line by Line Meaning
Sitting in a cardboard shelter
I am living in a temporary home made of cardboard.
On the streets forever
I will be homeless forever and will never have a permanent residence.
Daily news to lay my head
I use newspapers as a pillow to sleep on each night.
The future seems like never
I cannot imagine a future where I am not homeless.
Holes in my pockets, holes in my soles
I have no money and my shoes are worn out with holes.
Chewed out by neighbors
I am constantly being criticized and belittled by those around me.
Four-legged theives steal my daily bread
Stray animals take the little food I am able to scavenge or beg for.
That last week lost its flavor
I cannot remember the last time I had a decent meal or enjoyable experience.
Baptised in the morning rain
I am washed by the rain outside each morning.
I scrub away a month's debris
I use the rain to wash the dirt and grime that has accumulated on my body over the past month.
But never rinsing out the pain
Despite being clean on the outside, I cannot wash away the emotional pain I endure each day.
Cannot recall what once was me
My current situation has caused me to lose touch with who I used to be.
Holes in my memory, holes in my soul
My past is blurry and my spirit is broken.
Chewed out by what I believe
My beliefs and values are constantly being attacked and criticized by others.
Begging, wishing, hoping, stealing
I resort to begging and criminal behavior to survive, while still maintaining a glimmer of hope for a better future.
Knowing I can never leave
I am trapped in this cycle of poverty and homelessness with no way out.
Sleeping on a bed of stone
I have no comfortable place to sleep and often resort to sleeping on hard surfaces.
Living in a house of rags
I am barely surviving in a makeshift home made of old, worn out materials.
Nothing else to call my own
I have no possessions or belongings to my name.
Dying for a house of rags
I am desperate for any form of shelter or security, no matter how temporary or inadequate it may be.
Now I lay me down to sleep
I am about to go to sleep.
I pray to God I never wake up
I would rather not live than continue to suffer in this way.
Contributed by John J. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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