Home is where I thought I was I must have been asleep. I saw you picking fists of red and green And some of them you keep, And some you throw away You always were a waste You take more than you need And now I'm Afraid to close my eyes, The air is full of ice. Reminds me of the winter in your smile. You looked for what was his Took what he would give Played 'till you were tired, And when you had enough You threw him out in the cold like a hair coming off of a brush When you were finished you know he was nobody else's to love And I remember he told me that every time that you touched, Your skin was like A bowl collecting blood. I know he's gone. I know he went away I know he couldn't take The sight of all those bodies in your wake You're pretty like a snake You're pretty like the ground 'Cause once you pull them in You know they're never coming out So shake another hip And then you take another scalp And they go out in the cold like the hair coming off of a brush When you are finished you know they are nobody else's to love And I remember he told me that every time that you touched Your skin Was like a bowl collecting blood.
Home is where I thought I was I must have been asleep. I saw you picking fists of red and green And some of them you keep, And some you throw away You always were a waste You take more than you need And now I'm Afraid to close my eyes, The air is full of ice. Reminds me of the winter in your smile. You looked for what was his Took what he would give Played 'till you were tired, And when you had enough You threw him out in the cold like a hair coming off of a brush When you were finished you know he was nobody else's to love And I remember he told me that every time that you touched, Your skin was like A bowl collecting blood. I know he's gone. I know he went away I know he couldn't take The sight of all those bodies in your wake You're pretty like a snake You're pretty like the ground 'Cause once you pull them in You know they're never coming out So shake another hip And then you take another scalp And they go out in the cold like the hair coming off of a brush When you are finished you know they are nobody else's to love And I remember he told me that every time that you touched Your skin Was like a bowl collecting blood.
