hanging from a petals pore
drying slowly above the floor,
of yellow roses and red sunflowers.
               paint a florist affair
               as birds outside shoot
              ray-guns to the sun.
this house smells so nice.

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my origin?
That place of lacking youth,
and taunting memories.
Is home again meant to be,
tragically void of love?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my blood?
That place of summer delusion,
and bittersweet times.
Is home again meant to be,
an occasional fiction?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my choice?
That place of hidden thoughts,
and tormenting deceit.
Is home again meant to be,
a lovesick tragedy?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my escape?
That place of bogus smiles,
and buried anger.
Is home again meant to be,
such a desolate substitute?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, to my dream?
That place of eternal languish,
and immediately forfeited.
Is home again meant to be,
another stolen fantasy?

Home again, home again.
What is home again?
Home again, is this my home?
A place of nurturing souls,
but not of true understanding.
Is home again meant to be,
always a skeptical endeavor?

Home again, home again.
Where is home again?
Home again, is my guess?
A place that I'm still unsure,
and will constantly question.
Someday perhaps I'll know what
My home again is meant to be.

Why are you trying to forget while I struggle to keep the memories alive? Holding the cigarette between my fingers just like you taught me – trying to take advantage of every memory.
Knowing that it’s far over but still keeping you with me incase.
Just so you know I was thinking of you. Just so you know.
However all done in vain - you have forgotten, erased and damaged anything that was left.

Here to us, we had it good.