---

The language of the household
Is floorboard Morse-Code
Before me you'll grow old
I'll still be your scapegoat
You mope around the ground floor
Scratching the contours
Free me you implore
We're snowbound in cold war

I don't feel like going out today
The light burns my eyes
When the sky is grey
I hope that someday
You pack your bags and move away

I'm so embarrassed that I carry your name
Its' not a contract when your bloods' not the same
If there is one thing from you I have gained
I know I'll never grow up to be the man you became

I don't feel like going out today
The light burns my eyes
When the sky is grey
I hope that someday
You pack your bags and move away

The language of the household
Is floorboard Morse-Code
Before me you'll grow old
I'll still be your scapegoat

I don't feel like going out today
The light burns my eyes
When the sky is grey
There must be some place
Where the colour does not fade
It would draw me in
Like a moth to a flame

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.