If home is where the heart is, then I'm fucking lost. And I can't say your name without out my blood as the cost. If I cry myself to sleep just right, I'll see you in my dreams. But as long as I'm alive, you always seem to leave. My pillows catch my tears like a rag, but dream catcher must have a snag, because all I get are nightmares. I'll ring out my pillow case and try to dream again. The land of milk and cookies taste a lot like gin. I'll drown myself in whiskey, and just pray to God you miss me.