Lonely home, with the couch rolled out

your head full of clouds

and your eyes alive with yourself

Sinking in

know it ain't far

ain't that you're gonna fall down

it might be nice to break in the night

and it might be right

but wonder and I wonder which way is out...

...Of this cloud

how are you gonna find your way?

I'll knock at the sound

vacate the air you breathe in and out, and I stare

Sinking in

filled too far

wondering which way is the end

flipping the page cause I can't stand the thought

turning past the story, get to the end and I'm out...

...Of this bloody room

with the sound of the air drifting over

I'd like to be home, sitting on my couch

with my feet up on the ottoman

taking away the "ouch"

(I'm home, I'm home)

Sinking in

with the thought of your doubt

when i'm thinking it through, I know it's bitter

you might be gone, and I might be alone

but at least i've got my couch and my feet up on the ottoman

and I'm home