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My Home. Saying every thought that was in our mind And reading out loud like an announcer would say. Looking at old yearbooks Laughing at some Awing at others And hiding our own Desperate to dance at random moments Singing like we’re the next American Idol
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My Home Saying every thought that was in our mind And reading out loud like an announcer would say. Looking at old yearbooks Laughing at some Awing at others And hiding our own Desperate to dance at random moments Singing like we’re the next American Idol Starving for the love of friends And being who you want to be. Planning to go swimming at three or four in the morning But never make it til then, After our time vanishes Before we have the slightest thought it did Parents come to take us home Leaving with memories, Good times, And a good mood. Knowing that a get together is always Something to come back to. By Melissa Tylinski “Home is where the heart is.” Blah blah blah. What a bunch of rubbish. I prefer other people’s homes With best friends. Pulling up in the driveway And before I even get there People slam open the door And run towards me screaming their hearts out That’s our way of saying, “Hello, how are you?” Havingwater fights, That lead to marshmallow or Left over pizza fights That the pizza guy brought. Munching down on all the food that’s in the fridge And trying new recipes with scraps. Watching movies just for the commercials
My Home Saying every thought that was in our mind And reading out loud like an announcer would say. Looking at old yearbooks Laughing at some Awing at others And hiding our own Desperate to dance at random moments Singing like we’re the next American Idol Starving for the love of friends And being who you want to be. Planning to go swimming at three or four in the morning But never make it til then, After our time vanishes Before we have the slightest thought it did Parents come to take us home Leaving with memories, Good times, And a good mood. Knowing that a get together is always Something to come back to. By Melissa Tylinski “Home is where the heart is.” Blah blah blah. What a bunch of rubbish. I prefer other people’s homes With best friends. Pulling up in the driveway And before I even get there People slam open the door And run towards me screaming their hearts out That’s our way of saying, “Hello, how are you?” Havingwater fights, That lead to marshmallow or Left over pizza fights That the pizza guy brought. Munching down on all the food that’s in the fridge And trying new recipes with scraps. Watching movies just for the commercials
