How long are you gonna drown around And peel off all your scabs And take your stitches out? How long? You show off your loss of blood But everybody's got that too All running down our shins, no one can do a thing for you How long, how long... Like a reckless child, rubbing dirt in his wounds Steps away from front doors And cleaner hands, warmer hands to soothe Reeling back, peeling bandages again But it all keeps coming off, like you forgot how to grow skin And it when it does, it just sticks to the linen So now you sleep by the creek Imagined meals within your cheeks It's a blanket pile of leaves and a tin can A tin can to your pride But there's a stamp on your bones It says that you have a home And it's your brilliant own