Throwing Muses - Vicky's Box текст песни

He
Won't ride
In cars any more
It reminds him of
Blow jobs
That he's a queer
And his hair
Stuck to the roof, over the wheel
Like a pigeon on a tyre
Goes around
And circles over circles
And he's a queer
And his hair
On the roof
Like a pigeon
Goes around
Says he's a man
And his eyes
And his hair
And his eyes
Say he's a man
He won't ride any more
He won't ride any more
He won't ride any more
Home is a rage
Feels like a cage
Home is what you read
How you breathe
Home is how you live
I feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
I feel boxed in
Think I'll be all right
Home is where the heart lies
The heart lies
The hard lies
Welcome home
Welcome home
Welcome home
[?]
I only love pieces of things that I hate
Like this box, this piece of room
I can't grasp, can't see true
A piece of past
Days like today
Like a decade alone
Painful to remember like today
I've been here another year, another day
Oh so waving flags and jazz [?!]
Girl you complain
To kiss the rotten broken knee
You may be dreaming
You may be bleeding
You may be in this box
A kitchen is a place
Where you prepare and
And clean up
Clean up
Clean up
Clean up