The

Ar-

moire

That

you

found

by

the

dump-

ster

While

vi-

si-

ting

your

sis-

ter

It

looks

fine

In

a

li-

ving

room

where

The

oth-

ers

you've

res-

cued

Go

to

die

That

old

mi-

rror

by

the

bed

With-

out

much

of

a-

ny-

thing

to

re-

flect

Save

for

a

few

holes

And

cri-

ppled

b-

ed

poles

and

sha-

dows

that

don't

move

Cob-

webs

in

the

cor-

ner

A

dead

spi-

der

on

the

wall

I'm

home,

but

I'm

not

home

Box-

es

in

the

b-

ase-

ment

That

were

spared

From

ri-

sing

w-

a-

ters

Dis-

car-

ded

blood-

stained

drum-

skins

and

sticks

Rest

on

your

mo-

ther's

matt-

ress

I'm

home

Some-

how

while

I

was

gone

This

house

I

left

for

dead,

it

lin-

gered

on

I'm

home,

with

my

own

fa-

mi-

ly

in

tow

Ev-

'ry-

thing's

the

same,

but

dif-

ferent

I'm

home

a-

gain,

but

the

de-

vil

knows

I'm

born

a-

gain

and

I

can't

hold

these

walls

up

on

my

own.