home is where your head’s at and my head’s at home I ain’t stashing empty bottles behind no shotgun shack I’m organised for life here in the digital world I changed the lock on my door and threw away the key I’m walking that line fingers crossed behind my back
it’s fuel for life totally automatic sustenance by numbers maybe it’s the environment that best suits my clothing or perhaps the process of osmosis has slowly filtered out my ambition but I’ve seen the world outside and now I’m staying in
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