Back on top of Benz and it ain't music
It's a paper cut, I flip it and my finger get the bruising
Never heard of war, yeah, I really get to choose it
Who's the lucky girl who'd be with me for my music?
Let go
It's a house, not a home, and it's broke, but I can't let go
I've been trying to keep it locked down, but I can't come
Go to bed so late, I don't sleep
And the coffee's three days old at least
Spending all the rack shit I don't need
I don't see the void that voices me
I'm sad, buried under the glass
(It's a house, not a home, it's broke, but I can't let go)
So sad, suddenly destroys it
(It's a house, not a home, it's broke, but I can't let go)
I can feel the light
So many ghosts in my head, might as well care to welcome mine
Just a house, not a home, but it's broke, better get that patch
They've been in so long, I lost it
I quit cigarettes, but I'm on tons it
I thought it was a diamond, but it's made of glass
You're gettin' that shit, clean the pieces of glass
I'm sad, buried under the glass
(It's a house, not a home, it's broke, but I can't let go)
So sad, suddenly destroys it
(It's a house, not a home, it's broke, but I can't let go)
