| Oh, did we wake up to find we’ve gone too far?
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| Home, this empty rusted town with its endless liquor reservoir
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| I’ve tried to reclaim some ground and that stay close to me
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| If she don’t wanna feel my love can I sing through all my misery?
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| Home, I need a place right now that I can call my own
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| This bipolar east coast forecast drives me to my knees
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| I both my legs off thinking maybe it would bring me peace
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| But now I’m scratching limbs long gone like some amputee
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| Eyes pinned open wide, begging for the mercy she won’t show to me
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| Home, I need a place right now that I can call my own
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| Home, smothered in vines and reeds from all the seeds I’ve sown
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| Home, I built it all and burned it down to find there’s worse fates than being
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| alone
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| Waiting by the phone, home, alone
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| Now, now we wake up to find we’ve gone too far
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| Home, this empty rusted town with its endless liquor reservoir
|
| I’ve tried to reclaim some ground and that stay close to me
|
| If she don’t wanna feel my love I’ll just sing through all my misery
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| Home, I need a place right now that I can call my own
|
| Home, smothered in vines and reeds from all the seeds I’ve sown
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| Home, I built it all and burned it down to find there’s worse fates than being
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| alone
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| You can turn your heavy heart into stone at home alone |