Little House on the—

The company came to town that day,

Having already purchased the land

For building there where buildings were—

A hyphen, not an ampersand.

Looking on that they owned and loved,

Which they knew the company would snatch,

The townsfolk saw not alternative

And defiantly lit the first match.

The flames spread over their property,

Consuming their houses and farms.

Smoke rose to warn the detectors,

Setting off fire alarms.

Before they could silence the sirens,

Something went horribly wrong,

But that’s not the end of this story;

That’s just the end of this song.