Hindsights - Home | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Hindsights
• Home

I never wanted to be here,
They never want to leave.
Irony is having a field day,
And I’m struggling to sleep.
This flight to somewhere,
Was a journey into nothing.
I’m counting sheep,
Wishing seconds into hours.

Streetlights are the only guide,
These unkempt tracks keep us behind.
If only it was a way home.
Just take me home.

These rooms are hostile,
Through no fault of my own.
My friends breath,
Has an all too familiar smell.
All the people here,
Speak too much from their cloudy minds,
And I can’t wait to get out.