Is there anyone home in this house made of stone? Anyone inside know my name?
I've been around for a half of a hundred days, never saw a door shut so tight.
Turn around, don't look down, there's a man behind you with a gun.
Like any wandering child in the wilderness, wild and uncaged are your ways.
I think I heard someone stir. I think I heard someone stir.
There's a light around you, I've come to switch it on. It will brighten every room.
Don't be ashamed if you feel a whole lot warmer in you heart,
You got that feeling in your soul.
Is there anyone home in this house made of stone? Anyone in there who might care?
I've grown weary and wise and I feel much amazed, got a few good tales to unwind.
Turn around, don't look down, there's a man behind you with a gun.
Like any wandering minstrel I've dawned in the house of a thousand delights.
I think I heard someone stir. I think I heard someone stir.
I think I heard someone stir. I think I heard someone stir.
I think I heard someone stir. I think I heard someone stir.
Writer(s): Gordon Lightfoot
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