"Home" as written by and Joseph/gardocki Subbiondo....
Grow strong homeless.
Go on numbers, go on home.
There's nothing to see except insults thrown at body of works.
Felt it before, and during, and after re-occuring.
Happening for a reason, I never regret,
So I'll never be sorry enough to earn back the respect.
I'm a broken record, playing out a broken dream on shitty speakers.
Man it sucks to be myself and hurts to bite the lips.
It kills to think they say I'm becoming something else.
Yet I feel the same,
And dirty, and guilty and alone,
And needing to acknowledge that I need no approval.
Here I am again at square one who am I and who are they?
Consuming all of my time, this ain't hip-hop,
But I'm supposed to be a rapper.
Why did I make this place?
I'm far away from home and I have no home.
Why did I come to this place?
Far away from home and I have no home.

So I sleep under papers and talk to myself in public places,
I stagger and twitch, and drive a 400 dollar car.
I'm taking it on the road again, this time I'm never coming back 'til I'm dead.
Pour another keg.
Shake my leg it's broken.
That's my name run it through the mud I still remain
A beast, a mountain of moss purging all the stagnance.
This stage is the saddest place I've ever been.
Let this be a lesson,
Let us be cheapened.
Let's not be the lesser,
Let's beat around the bush 'til my brain rots, and apples fall
And everyone indulges and enjoys, and maybe dies of cancer.
We all gotta go, it's all gotta go, and I've changed my mind again.
I'm not gonna go out like I should.
For I'm so humbled, I have no shame, many dignities, and an inability to simplify.
So throw things, I'll catch them, and hopefully in time you will to.
Let me breath for you, you're choked up and afraid to show it.
I'm a person, not a poet and it's wack to rhyme poet with show it,
But see it's obvious I can't change and I'm not finished.
But I live in this space so give that much to me.
The freedom to be in a space,
A space like my own air,
Heir to no one's throne.

La la la this song is not a message.
Arrogant people make me.
Silent people interest me.
Why can't anybody leave me in peace?
Why bother?
Brothers, sisters, orphans, and dolphins.
No one person is that special, we ride the short bus to oblivion,
Living in a commune.
It's a small rock we're standing,
I wanna understand, I need to lay down.
The background moves so fast it's hard to see the faces of my loved ones.
But their voices I follow and somehow end back in the same place,
'Til everything stops.
And nobodys there, and I'm walking down the street mumbling over the sound of my footsteps echoing off;
Looking for a place to lay my feet
But nobody's home
Nobody's home, excuse me sir, nobody's home.

Lyrics submitted by exact

"Home" as written by Gregory William Hjort Paul Carl Hemenway

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group

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Home song meanings
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    General CommentMy favorite track off bottle of humans. Obviously it's about being lost and out of place, as to the the actual meaning, i'm not even gonna guess...but the line "no one person is that special, we ride the short bus to oblivion" is near genius
    1218eighty-twoon May 02, 2006   Link

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