You were lying where
You had cut my hair
Right beneath the table
Where we eat the bread you make
Home is so sad

Glass in our coffee
Towels on trees
Blood from your nostrils
Blood from your ears
Soil splattered on the walls like drops of blood
Home is so sad

There's a hole
Where your knee should be
But I am not afraid
I am not afraid
Home is so sad
It stays as it was left