All The windows are cracked and shattered,
or too dirty to look through.
The curtains are worn and tattered,
too ugly to be beautiful.
The floor boards bend and moan,
like they're going to break soon.
This is my shelter.
Ya this is home.
All the mirrors are broken,
they reflect someone else.
I've been raw to the bones soaking,
And I'm not worried about my health.
All my words are dry and poison,
come closer so you can hear me.
I've lived like this all my life.
Ya this is home.
I'm afraid of fear and death,
although it seems I've been living in it.
I've never felt differently,
not even for a minute.
I feel like I've walked a thousand miles,
my heart, is bleed (so) dry.
This is what I know,
Ya this is home.
My house is full of lies,
I buried the truth in the backyard.
I tried to forget the pain,
but it's too hard.
I'm a failure again, and again,
I've lost to my own art.
This is my open heart,
Ya this is home.
I can't see the books in the library,
I've gone blind.
No pictures is the photo album,
they were burned long ago.
I lost my hand to that horrid band,
that plays the song of my soul.
