What if feelings were really all just science?
That everything we feel is actually genetic
That would mean
Every awful feeling was meant to be
All that we do, all that we see
We were meant to be
Exactly where we are
That would mean our mistakes
Aren't mistakes at all
We were made to be exactly
What we are
Happy, scared, stressed, and sad
Genetics would make it seem less bad
What if science was really all we had?
All the heartache and pain
All the decisions that we've made
Everything we are would make sense
But this is merely a myth

The length of your recovery
Is determined by the extent of your injuries
So how do you determine a broken heart?
How would you start?

How do you determine painful wonders?
Is it counted in numbers?
How do you determine someone's injuries,
if they're all just miseries?
It may just be one of those mysteries

How do you cure
A hundred years of heartache
Do you lie for their sake?
Tell them everything is just make or break?

How do you determine someone's emotional trauma?
Deep down inside they're just ready to hide
In their heart they already feel like they've died

So what kind of recovery would you suggest?
If you knew all their troubles, what would you assess?
For someone so lost, for someone so stressed
*What kind of recovery would they possess?

I crave a home that doesn't exist
A place I've never seen, how could it be missed?
Maybe covered in sunflowers and caught amidst
Please drag me there, drag me by my wrist


I wonder what it's like to feel at home
To feel wanted and never alone
Maybe it's warm and by the ocean
Maybe it's dark and golden


It could smell of peonies or red roses
It could taste of sugar and your broken proposes
Just a home full of moments
A home for a poet


But this home is impossible to obtain
For everything is done in vain
Just need somewhere to rid me of this pain
I'm sorry this is so hard to explain

You were an escape artist
And I your favorite trick
You'd spin me
around and around and around
Then leave me with no gift

But still I can't let you go
You've hurt me more
than anyone I know
Love is so addicting
You I shouldn't be missing

For your final trick
You'd make me disappear
You called her up
"I missed you, my dear"
She's your new pick



*now I'll be quick