Sleep don't visit, so I choke on sun
 And the days blur into one 
 And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done 

Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline 
 Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass 
 Was never much but we made the most 
 [bad word] home (ho-o-ome, ho-o-ome, ho-o-ome...) 

Ships are launching from my chest 
 Some have names but most do not 
 If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost 

Heal the scars from off my back 
 I don't need them anymore 
 You can throw them out or keep them 
In your mason jars 
 [bad word] home (ho-o-ome, ho-o-ome, ho-o-ome...) 

All my nightmares escaped my head 
 Bar the door, please don't let them in 
 You were never supposed to leave 
 Now my head's splitting at the seams 
 And I don't know if I can 

Here, beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again