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oh the places we'd go
if only there were doors
this house isn't home
hell isn't hot no
expect it to be like the
cold side of the bed
oh nobody ever warned me
the devil had love to spare
worth third degree burns
you can get high but
never lose your fear of heights
the ground won't catch you
you feel it coming, a definite change in atmosphere
thunder (an awful, raging storm) in the distance
you try to take shelter in the only home you've ever known
then the push comes (don't say you weren't expecting it)
suddently it's o v e r
your world just split down the middle
crack crack crack.

panic does funny things to people

you look through the rubble, searching
there'll be no survivors
picking up the pieces of your past
(oh the memories splinter in your skin)
you scramble to rebuild your home
this is a delicate procedure, heart surgery always is

you're gonna think you fixed (yourself) your home
but it doesn't take a storm to topple a house of cards
cardboard and lies never made good building materials
and construction is more of a group project

loneliness does funny things to people

anger (the sad kind) comes next
you w r e c k what's left of your mess
and take the mangled pieces as prisoners of war (between who?)
you use what little you salvaged to build a little house
(a house is not always a home)
a temporary shelter from this man made storm
somewhere to drown in your nostalgia

this is how things come to be
this is how construction finally ends
this is separation at it's finest

heart break does funny things to people
we solve our problems
by spitting on a house fire
and claiming to try
eyes versus oceans
the sea isn't always blue
but I'm still drowning

— The End —