Hate is what you wanna write about
Sleep is what you wish you had time for
Birds make you want to write again
Death is what you talk about with friends
and
Life is what you cry about
When you’re sitting at home and you feel alone
And it’s cold outside and your hands are dry
When you realize that you have emotions inside
And it happens again and again and
You have to go home for the holidays
but
Who are you going home to?
and
Who am I going home to?
