I have trained to be a great house, with thick walls, doors only to open on my account.
I needed to separate, to investigate, to deny and to approve for them to come in.
Its under my control.

Sometimes my windows are open, but I never let anybody step down to the basement.
This is my control.

Everyone knows and they respect that, as they are shown clearly to remain at the front yard in their suits, with their big cars, with their symbols of masculinity.
And I still have control.

Some have dared to knock – and they would still do, if they would have seen a chance to get in.
I still have control.

So why is it that someone like you has never knocked, never asked, but simply opened the door.
Now you are in my hallway and I cannot get you out…
little plugged punk winning smile rascal! …