Homes

A house without a piano

Just a stereo

I used to play but now I’ve

Got this stereo

You brought it with you when you moved in

So we would never be alone

Always something in the background

And I’m always almost punched

But I escape

With just a hint of a black eye

And we’re always almost over

But then we wake up

And it’s already one o’clock

And I hope I can change

I hope I can change

But oh my god

It’s so hard

And what if this

Is who I am

(not our fault that the cops are assholes)

Forte without piano

Never stop complaining

It’s what I love about you

You never stop complaining

Next step is buckets out

When we start raining

Let’s go out tonight

Because our home is falling apart

And you’re always almost punched

But you escape

With just a hint of a black eye

And we’re always almost over

But then we wake up

And it’s already two o’clock

And I hope I can change

People are dying, I hope I can change

But oh my god

It’s so hard

And what if this

Is who I am

(Remember when I made jokes?

The joke’s on you, fucker

I never made any jokes

I meant every word)

If home is where I go to die

If home is where I go to die

And we’re always almost punched

But we escape

With just a hint of a black eye

And I’m always almost sober

By the time I have to drive you back home

And we’re always almost over

And then we are

And I hope I can change

I am dying, I hope I can change

But oh my god

It’s so hard

And what if this

Is who I am