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I'd light a fire beside the skin and dig a hole for bones to lay
Find a sacred resting place where the pecking hens wont harm the eyes.
Home, home the air I breathe
Home, home the air I breathe

It's not enough for me to wait for the open skies to fill with hymn
its my kind to fill the air with broken empty hymn
there’s a blade of grass
there are the things I ain’t
reminisce on my chest
bones of flesh I integrate

Home, home the air I breathe
Home, home the air I breathe

I'd light a fire beside the skin and dig a hole for bones to lay
Find a sacred resting place where the pecking hens wont harm the eyes.

Home, home the air I breathe
Home, home the air I breathe
Home, home the air I breathe
Home, home the air I breathe

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