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• Artiste: Connie Constance
• Titre: Home
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My thoughts are concerning, I wish I had more control Oh, where were we? I went down a rabbit hole I climb out slowly and notice your cup is half-full There's hope in me, I just needed to make a home Home Home is where my head's at But I don't like the furniture Yours are [?] like a Xanax But it's all my interiors No, no, no, no, don't fuck this up No, no, no, no, don't mess this one up No, no, no, no, don't fuck this up No, no, no, no, don't mess this one up I can't mute them, fought all of these bad thoughts Can't even use them, they'rе fears of the future from past Whеre did you come from and when are you gonna go? Keep your shoes on and don't make yourself at Home Home is where my head's at But I don't like the furniture Yours are [?] like a Xanax But it's all my interiors No, no, no, no, don't fuck this up No, no, no, no, don't mess this one up No, no, no, no, don't fuck this up No, no, no, no, don't mess this one up Hello, my dear girl Nah, nah, it's alright, you're doing well That [?] talk, Greek mythology business It will never catch up He's not [?], ain't nobody else but you What a face you have when you smile Now [?] Their waters have ran dry, they've ran their course An older Trojan horse is an emotional head force of self-perish Even if it's just for a while Please grant my mate some peace, man Peace that sits between the eyes Peace that overrules all the fucking porkpies or how they like Hello, my dear girl, how are you? Don't worry, you're doing well [?] Come on, love Let's go down to the pub