I can't get up because if I do. I'll just be staring at the floor. I'll take a long look around me. And forget what I got up for. . Breakfast being the only thing that gets me out of bed.
In separate rooms. I hear them screaming through the walls. I'm locked away, home sweet home. Listening to the vicious things they say. You hate yourselves, home sweet home.
Look at my puppy, can you spare a quarter. Playing guitar and stinking up the corner. Patchouli oil and freshly dirty feet. Mom's station wagon is parked down the street.