Government Warning. No Moderation. Sick Of Home. Zeneszám

I'm sick of love, and i'm sick of home
like a ghost on a breeze out into the unknown
my eyelids are as heavy as stones
i'm emaciated and i'm out on my own

this has happened for the very last time
let the cold sweet southern air wash out my mind

this has gotta be the very last time
let the cool sweet southern breeze blow out my mind

one day ill be free to go wherever i like

i'm selling off everything that i own
like a tumbleweed blowing where ever the wind blows
the shirt on my back and a gram of blow
its time to go, man i really gotta go

i got to forget this place its warped my mind
the drolling day to day has warped my me
my poor affected brain, i'm warped and blind
this fucking life of mine....oh