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by Bad Astronaut
Buy album CD: Houston We Have A Drinking Problem
Houston) I'm coming home,
I'm not bound anymore on the brink of nothing
I'm just starting something.
I am dog boy, overwhelmed, unemployed,
An arsenal of outbursts but I'm just saying it first.
I don't want to lose everything that we grew.
I'm not cutting you down, I'm just carrying the axe.
Knowing it's half bad, knowing its a little sad
and theres blood on our hands.
I hate this. No one at the wheel,
everyone is here to feel, I'm coming home.
We aren't sound anymore,
I can't build a purpose in this falling structure.
I'm not tearing it down, I just can't find the sound.
I'm disarming the bomb before it goes off.
Knowing it's half bad, knowing it's all smiling sad.
And the gun in my hand is empty.
I am Mr. Guilt, everyone is here to feel.
I thank you all so much for my next trick, next trip, drive home.
No hard feelings.
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