Family Home

I wanna live in your house
I wanna sleep in this room
I should’ve never moved out
Of the family home
You both get up very early
You go to bed early too
You grind up things for your coffee
You answer everyone
Oh,
It’s the last thing on my mind and
Always, there are limits of space
Limits of time
We’re both exactly alike
In our peculiar ways
Pay such attention to sentences that the urges get afraid
I thought if I’d get nothing you’d give me nothing as well
But we get tired of nothing although you’d never tell
Oh, it’s the last thing on my mind and
Always, there are limits of space
Limits of time
We went to visit you
In San Francisco
We got to meet you
But when’d you get so old
We rode our bikes around
We rode up to the lake
You were much faster than me
But I will soon change
Oh
Always
It will
Always
It will
Always
It will
Always
It will change
It will