Freshly grown flowers and home cooked meals
secrets my family just cannot conceal
The raw and untouched, pure human lust
Journals with pages I know I can trust
Warm cups of coffee delivered in bed
Old worn in clothing with rips in its thread
A beat I can dance to, a song I can sing
I yearn to remember every beautiful thing

For the safety I find, I find in my mind
Although the gates of hell never lock, nor bind
Its entrance lies next to my vices
It waits patiently for me to activate my devices