You'll see us on TV, with our hard hats stuck on tight Showing Kev McCloud around our unusual building site It could be the ruins of a barn built centuries ago But after we've done it up, no-one would ever know
Windows of handmade glass, roofs of water reed thatch Our house is not one of those churned out by the batch No aluminium frames, no stencilled concrete drive On entering our house, all your senses come alive
The wood, the light, the views, the staircase helical That leads up to our mezzanine, a world ethereal Our house could be floating on a loch or sat in a national park It could be warm and cosy or modern and strangely stark
Foot and mouth quarantine may delay the build Or it could be there's no stuff for something which needs filled But although our budget's blown and our dream house still not done They'll show it on the telly, so you can have some fun!