Well paths can't decide which horse you ride, so you choose the one that's at hand. Even though these roads we know expand over highway, through wasteland and sand there's a place less roamed by the savages with stones. If I've a heart then I've a home. I hear people talking on the train about all the things they own. iPhone apps and heart attacks that don't do much for the soul. My heart is soaked in alcohol and it's hidden like a poem. It keeps me covered up in concrete love that a girl gave to me on loan. And though this pavement is my grave it still could be my home. When I split cold comfort called to me, said "come on, don't leave me alone." I turned, replied, " My friend I've died, and I don't think it made me grow." I was seventeen and had a dream to see all I could and be seen and as my muscles atrophied I still believed in love and needed someone to call home. I'd call home. Call home. Now a final word and rest assured, all you really need to know. When this bodies weight all dissipates I know I'll be at home.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
