Coming Home

Bless me father I'm a broken man
I've gone through Hell, so I'm back again
It's been too long... I do what I can
What all I've done, turn back to damn

What is there at the end of the road?
I'm missing somthing...
There must be more (There must be more)
Until my soul leaves it's shell to erode
I'll drive fifty-five to fourty-four

Wake up and smell the flowers
Before your day's bereft
There won't be after hours
You don't have much time left
No time for shrinks and cowers
They won't help anyways
Ghosts watch from empty towers
Numbering all your days

(Fall)

Wake up and smell the flowers
Before your day's bereft
There won't be after hours
You don't have much time left
No time for shrinks and cowers
They won't help anyways
Ghosts watch from empty towers
Numbering all your days



Credits
Writer(s): Patrick Hall
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link