Last day of every month, I swear
My bank is empty, and I just have to eat bread
Dust gathering, it’s clear to see
The vacuum cleaner is an ancient memory
Shit hand-me-downs that no one wants
The only furniture that I can call my own
Freedom to do whatever I want
But there’s no satisfaction
I’m alone (he’s alone)
In this dump I call my home (all alone)
Where’s my gun?
Clean underwear, fresh Tupperware
Home cooking every night, I swear
It would be rad living with Mum and Dad
I’m still here (he’s still here)
In the land of month-old beer (month-old beer)
Something died under the chair
If things don’t improve, beware
That body could be me
No shitty chores, dickhead landlords
Weekly shopping that I can’t afford
I cannot wait, this new life could be great
I’d pay my way living with Mum and Dad
Hugs everyday living with Mum and Dad
Clean underwear, fresh Tupperware
Living with Mum and Dad
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