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lyrics
A house, so clinical and perfect, is the furthest thing from home
Imagine that, I’m out of practice, with the one thing that could keep me grounded
To get over it, I’ll get under something that makes me feel quite frankly perfect
And once round the sun again, on a sphere of which I’ve seen nothing
It’s safe to say that we’ve all got our problems, how bad’s water when you’re wet?
A life, glued to your bed, how stale. What keeps us here, lodged like nails?
I love the coast, it’ s got its secrets, some excuses know you’ re a keeper.