Stormlord

There is a house in London
Where even in winter time
the windows are always open wide
There is a house in London
Where incense burns at all hours
concealing a much less pleasant smell
A sour stench that mingles with
the scent of burning oil
There in Melrose Avenue
so many guests come and go
some come to stay
Some of the guests come to stay
At one hundred ninety five
so many people come and go