Vicky's Box

He won't ride in cars anymore

It reminds him of blow jobs that he's a queer

And his hair stuck to the roof over the wheel

Like a pigeon on a tire goes around

And circles over circles and he's a queer

And his hair on the roof

Like a pigeon goes around

Says he's a man and his eyes

And his hair and his eyes

Say he's a man

He won't ride anymore

He won't ride anymore

He won't ride anymore

Home is a rage feels like a cage

Home is what you read

How you breathe,

Home is how you live

I feel boxed in

I feel boxed in

I feel boxed in

Think I'll be all right

Home is where the heart lies

The heart lies, the heart lies

Welcome home, welcome home

Welcome home, welcome home

Welcome home

It's under the strangle of winter

I only love pieces of things that

I hateLike this box, this piece of roof

I can't grasp, can't see true

A piece of past

Days like today

Like a decade ago

Painful to remember like today

I've been here another year, another day

Ocean waving flies and a child

Girl you complain

To kiss the rotten broken knee

You may be dreaming

You may be bleeding

You may be in this box

A kitchen is a place where you prepare

And clean up

Clean upClean up

Clean up