I'm in a book,
For you to read and then throw out.
I wasn't born,

I was just dropped into your arms.
Well mom i've been bad,
And i want to come home.


And you couldn't breath,
With all those doctors at your side.

But you're talking to me,
Saying i wish that i had died.
'cause i'm being crowded,

Crushed in your hands,
And i want to come home on the f train.


And if you were just a paper boat,
Floating through the garden.
Lost at sea,

Drift to me,
And into someone's nightmares.
A home is a highway,

Your pillows a rock,
I'm in a rusted car,
Bound to get lost