Home is where you lay your head. my head lies
between the cracks. red lights lead to wasted days.
maybe I better put till' all my days.

Oh, the city's not a home. but it's somewhere to get alone.

Maybe I'm lying to myself. I'm not a graphter,
I'm not on that of earth.
I have a habit that's a full time occupation.
cause the grass is always greener
when you can't see the garden.

Oh, the city's not a home. but it's somewhere to get alone.
Oh, the city's not a home. but it's somewhere to get alone.