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