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I never felt more at home than you lighting the pipe for me because my hands were on the steering wheel A hundred thousand miles an hour At least across the Oregon border Black metal, full volume There is no way that i could hear you If there was anything to say Maybe I hate myself I hate the body I was born in Or I love you Now I am high on opiates low On self-esteem eating top ramen in the shower Standing all by myself next to you At the end of everything that matters to me anymore I cannot see you through the fogged up gla** That I am looking through I cannot see you through the fogged up windshield I never felt more at home than our Impenetrable fortress of blankets on my kitchen floor But the innermost wall fell so We fall back to the last reserve of heat That we kept in each others mouths I never felt more at home than Three hundred and eighty one miles away from home Orange County nightmares of stagnancy Orange County nightmares of stagnancy
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