Home is always the last place i left
My friends keep asking where I am
This time
Choosing between
Sunny beaches or tall buildings
Waiting for my boring soul decide
Want no material possessions
Or imperial power
Just self assurance and conviction
To admit you fucked up
What an adorable bastard
Give me back what's mine
Don't you think this dirty city
Has a stressful aura?
Anxiolitics propaganda
Makes me feel like home
Why's everybody running even on vacation?
The imminence of death
Caused by all the cigarettes
Makes me feel alive
Want no material possessions
Or imperial power
Just self assurance and conviction
To admit you fucked up
What an adorable bastard
Give me back what's mine
:)