I'm counting on myself, to get out of this house,
this hell you call a home? What a ******* joke.
You're never even here, and when you are,
your passed out on the kitchen floor.

I'm not the type of girl, who wants to settle down,
I'll leave your heart behind in another town.
I'm not the type of bird, who flies home to a nest,
every night until her timely death.

If I were a bird, I'd fly far away,
I'd never let back I'd never let myself stay
in one place for long, because it gets boring,
and I'd rather be soaring high.

Like a swift in the sky, a thief in the night.