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[merv the perv]

Everyone he knows knows
he’s a man up to his nose
with dreams and doubts and schemes that shout
of a man just trying to get out
and make his voice heard so he can rest assured
that every ounce of what could be
streamed out of him to form a sea.
He’s home. He’s home.

And if you can’t see, then you’re not looking.
He’s home, oh he’s home.

Everyday he wakes and sees
a mess he left. He’s on his knees
digging through old dirt to plant
a seed he knows simply can’t
ever grow in this shit.
He claims he’s sick of it,
but everyday’s the same.
He says, “I’ll do tomorrow what should be done today.”
He’s home. He’s home.

And if you can’t see then you’re not looking.
He’s home. Oh, he’s home.

He knows that his heart is good,
but good ain’t great and he knows he could
take the world by storm if only he had
a warm kiss to come home to.
A dream shared by two.
But no one’s there when he gets home,
so he fixes a drink. He’ll go it alone.
He’s home. He’s home.


And if you can’t see then you’re not looking.
He’s home. Oh, he’s home.

Even home can feel so tired sometimes.
I leave my shoes and my heart at the door.
The same walls used to seem so big
I sit tight as they start closing in

[billyboatkid]

I like it a lot especially the last part, and besides that the whole thing is really good. I enjoyed reading it.