The Armoire That you found by the dumpster While visiting your sister It looks fine In the living room where The others you've rescued Go to die. That old mirror by the bed Without much of anything to reflect Save for a few holes A crippled bedpost Shadows that don't move. Cobwebs in the corner Dead spider on the wall. Well I'm home, but I'm not home. Boxes in the basement That were spared from rising wagers Discarded blood stained drum skins and sticks rest on your mother's mattress. Well I'm home, and somehow while I was gone, this house i'd left for dead had lingered on. Well I'm home with my own family in tow, and everything's the same, but different. Well I'm home again, the devil knows I'm born again. But I can't hold these walls up on my own.