You remind me of home: the paint cracks when the water leaks
from the rusty pipes that are just beneath my feet
You remind me of home: the heater's warm but fills the room with a
potpourri of dust and gas fumes

You remind me of home: a broken bed with dirty sheets that creaks
when I am shifting in my sleep
You remind me of home: in a suburban town with nothing to do,
patiently waiting for something to happen
But the foundation is crumbling and becoming one with the ground
while you lay there in slumber...
You're wasting your lie

You remind me of home: sitting on a thrift store couch, I'm trying to
get this all down