Just had kinda conversation about the place that we'll miss so much, a place where we belong. And then, we reach the point that make me wondering where the place that I belong is. Is it my house right now? Well, it's just house, not home. So I guess even the house I live in is not a place where I belong.
A chair is still a chair
Even when there's no one sittin' there
But a chair is not a house
And a house is not a home
When there's no one there to hold you tight
And no one there you can kiss goodnight
A room is a still a room
Even when there's nothin' there but gloom
But a room is not a house
And a house is not a home
When the two of us are far apart
And one of us has a broken heart
(Luther Vandross, A House Is Not A Home)
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