House Of Shame Lyrics - Porter Wagoner

There's nothing unusual about the way my day begins 

As I walk up and down the streets with my mailpouch in my hands 

I've run this route for years everybody knows my name 

Especially at the old folks home which I call the House of Shame 

The old folks home is my last stop that's where I end my daily rout 

And my mailpouch is usually empty by then not always but just about 

Except for an accosional letter and they all wait anxiously 

With sad eyes that said the question is there anything for me 

And I hear their trembling voices as they talk back and forth 

I guess the children're just too busy to write 

They've got a lot of things to do of course 

And I try to cheer 'em up and say things to make 'em feel better 

Then I think to myself just how little effort it takes to write a letter 

Their old and wrinkled faces and hair as white as snow 

And memories locked up in their minds that only they could know 

I spent many hours there at the end of each day's run 

Trying in some way to fill the place of a daughter or a son 

And I listen as they tell me of their families of days gone by 

And the sadness there at times is so great I can't help but cry 

And thought it's reality it seems more like a dream 

That some of them have grandchildren that they've never even seen 

And I think it's just a shame that children they have raised 

Would put 'em in this House of Shame to spend their later days 

So there they sit just waitin' waitin' for letters they never get 

Waitin' for children that never come by waitin' just waitin' to die 

You see my folks are old now too and we've put 'em in a home 

But the difference is they live with us and they'll never be alone