I once loved a girl, but she couldn't take that I visited troublesome houses. She'd say, when I got home, to leave her alone. She could taste trouble on my mouth. When she was gone I missed her, I did... and still went to troublesome places. I couldn't withstand a glorious day without seeing these troublesome faces. And quiet eluded me, and keeps from me still, though I need my own bed and it's solace. Day's noises steal in and copper my will, and I face the evils that follow us. I once had a house, and my family knew where to find me if ever they needed. Troublesome houses were foreign to them. They thought all papa's orders I heeded. Now they can't fnd me; they don't have my numbers, and just hear reports of my doings. Troublesome houses are not in their minds, though it's in those I do all my moving.