Myself, I search for someone to hide amongst,  to hide inside.
For those not so wierd people who’d welcome in a wierdo.

And those people, when I find them, feel like tiny chambers haunted by Home,
Home the spirit, with their androgynous appearance and their kinda insane eyes.

And it’s so safe wether we’re madmen everyone mistakes for junkies, or
we’re flamboyant kids in a far right camp.
But something always happens to the chamber, all of them are ruins now.

That’s all because somebody’s moved away, and someone’s passed away,
Or someone don’t like his awesome brothers, and they tell me they hate each other,
           while I want them to love.

So what I wanna say is I met you the other day, it felt almost too cool.
The warmth was there, our laughs were there... and Home the spirit’s grave.

It wasn’t scary, I’ve only noticed it when I had put this memory of ours on repeat.
From right to left: it’s garage, road, sidewalk, two of us, and safety lying in a pit.