Home is where I thought I was
Must have been asleep
I saw you picking fists of red and green
Some of them you keep
Some you throw away
You always were a waste
You take more than you need

Now I'm afraid to close my eyes
The air is full of ice
Reminds me of the winter in your smile
You look for what was his
You took what he would give
You played 'til you were tired
And when you'd had enough

You threw him out in the cold
Like the hair coming off of a brush
When you were finished
You know he was nobody else's to love
And I remember he told me
That every time that you touched
Your skin was like a bowl collecting blood

I know he's gone
I know he went away
I know he couldn't take
The sight of all those bodies in your wake
You're pretty like a snake
You're pretty like the ground
'Cause once you pull them in
You know they're never coming out
You shake another hip and then you take another scalp

And they go out in the cold
Like the hair coming off of a brush
When you are finished
You know they are nobody else's to love
And I remember he told me
That every time that you touched
Your skin was like a bowl collecting blood