Paint my white picket fence black, and break the windows in my room,
Tear up the garden though the flowers were in bloom.
The cealing is caving in now, the walls are frail,
Though they\'ve always been strong, they\'re beginning to fail.
I\'ll sit on my bed while this home comes crashing down,
And when I scream for help theres no one around.
Now I live in a broken home, broken family and all,
I\'ve lost compassion and will to love, no reason to stand tall.
I can no longer reconigize your faces or the touch of your hand,
I\'m lost within my own house, you\'ll never understand.
Anything, anywhere to be but among this shattered glass,
My broken heart can take no more, it wont last.
These windows used to sparkle and the walls, paper white,
The fire roared on cold evenings and the rooms bright.
Now I can\'t see my hands in front of my own face,
\'Fraid to set a foot in this cold, dangerous space.
No one to hold me while I huddle \'neath the sheet,
I can smell the stench of deep hate and defeat.
I\'m far beyond anywhere I\'ve been before,
These rooms are too forgien to be called home anymore.
