home v2(buttfuckingforjesus4/5)

we scratch at scabs, careful not to bleed to long
but always open, always bare
and another place, another bandage, someone else to stitch me up
but i crawl to you when i wake up
home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads
take the bandage off, let things heal
wear the scar, a mark of pride
i cut the strings that play sad songs
and i'd strangle you with them if i could
but my hands they tremble so
home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads
hand in pocket to seek out truth
from crumpled napkins with notes to you
from lovers- we're liars and lost ones,
and lonely for that. forget me forget me forget me
come back
home: to that sinking feeling and familiar roads
i cut the strings that play sad songs
and I'd strangle you with them if i could
but my hands they tremble so
but my hands they tremble so