The language of the household Is floorboard Morse-Code Before me you'll grow old I'll still be your scapegoat You mope around the ground floor Scratching the contours Free me you implore We're snowbound in cold war
I don't feel like going out today The light burns my eyes When the sky is grey I hope that someday You pack your bags and move away
I'm so embarrassed that I carry your name Its’ not a contract when your bloods’ not the same If there is one thing from you I have gained I know I'll never grow up to be the man you became
I don't feel like going out today The light burns my eyes When the sky is grey I hope that someday You pack your bags and move away
The language of the household Is floorboard Morse-Code Before me you'll grow old I'll still be your scapegoat
I don't feel like going out today The light burns my eyes When the sky is grey There must be some place Where the colour does not fade It would draw me in Like a moth to a flame
