I Don't Live There Anymore

I live in a glass house
but I'm forever throwing stones.
Most of it is broken,
but I call it my home.

I was smoking like a chimney
and I was standing on the porch
well the bell, it kept on ringing
but there was no one at the door.

Well you have the invite
cause I was cooking all the time
but the placemats were empty
when I sat down to dine.

You could have changed it all
if you had called
the house was cold
and remained unsold.

The neighbour told me you darkened my door;
well, I hope you saw that I don't live there anymore.

Woah, woah, woah, woah

Saw so much pain through these windows,
left your picture on the fridge.
Well, they boarded them up, dead shut,
and I'm glad that they did.

I miss the leaking from the ceiling
and the squeaking of the gate
I took some of your lilies with me
but they won't grow the same.

You could have changed it all
if you had called
the house was cold
and remained unsold.

The neighbour told me you darkened my door;
well, I hope you saw that I don't live there anymore.

Woah, woah, woah, woah.

Well it took some paint from a desperate place
and an empty case and
I covered up the walls.

But there's still scuff marks
and some plastered scar
and I drive the same old car
but you couldn't tell at all.

Woah, woah, woah, woah.

The neighbour told me you darkened my door;
well, I hope you saw that I don't need you anymore.