dont feel like home, hes a little out...
and all these words elope, its nothing like your poem
putting in, inputting in, dont feel like methadone
a scratching voice all alone, theres nothing like your baritone
its nothing as it seems, the little that he needs, its home
the little that he sees, is nothing he concedes, its home
one uninvited chromosome, a blanket like the ozone
its nothing as it seems, all that he needs, its home
the little that he frees, is nothing he believes
saving up a sunny day, something maybe two tone
anything of his own, a chip off the cornerstone
whos kidding, rainy day
a one way ticket headstone
occupations overthrown, a whisper through a megaphone
its nothing as it seems, the little that he needs, its home
the little that he sees, is nothing he concedes, its home
and all that he frees, a little bittersweet, its home
its nothing as it seems, the little that you see, its home...
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