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I'm sick and tired of hanging out my window,
i've learnt from past experience rain can't make flowers grow,
and friends don't stick around
they go which way the wind goes,
you're never safe and sound until all your doors are closed

when you're awake on your own,
shadows turn into ghosts

soon it will all fall apart
and their roads will have no way,
and you'll be the one laughing
as their fences fade away,
and instead of being left there feeling all alone,
break down the house you made of match sticks
and set fire to their throne

when you're awake on your own shadows turn into ghosts,
home becomes what you're scared of the most

i'm pulling pictures off the wall watching smiles as they fall

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