letlive. - Dreamer's Disease Lyrics

I don’t want to be a wasteI’m wasted. I’m wasting awayWhile I’m out here making history, you’re making loveTo demons with no idea what horns have doneBut I don’t care. no, I don’t careI’ll die with a smile so my widow gets jealousThe ones that observed are the worst story tellersAnd lust is pulling my chair from under meWell it seems like the amorous man has prostitute-like commitment againAnd it feels like my eager hands are searching for that promiscuous skinDon’t mock me by existingMy ambition went from handsome as hell straight to ugly as sinBut I don’t care, why should I care?So fuck making love, see I’d rather make historyI’d prefer a monument over the kiss of theeThe world is pulling the rug from under meWell it seems like the amorous man has prostitute-like commitment againAnd it feels like my eager hands are searching for that promiscuous skinThey say home is where the heart isSo where do you keep your bed?And if home is where the heart isThen what do I do with this empty chest?They say home is where the heart isSo where do you keep your bed?And if home is where the heart isIt’s a crying shame we can’t afford the rentI’ll stay home where the heart isWhile you better yourself in bedYou’ll stay out with the hardest piece of himBetween the both of your legsI’d rather be homelessThan smelling his scent in our bedThere’s no such thing as heartache, you idiotI’ll stay home where the heart isWhile you better yourself in bedThere’s no such thing as heartache, you idiotIt’s all inside your head