I come home to hear a fight,
Yet Another sleepless night.
I go upstairs and close the door,
Turn off the lights and sit on the floor.
All the fame all the fortune,
Just a cover up, just misfortune.
This isn't home just a place,
Just a box, such a disgrace.
I feel homeless nothing more,
All this money, but I feel poor.
I seem fake but I hide,
Of me you haven't seen this side.
We're a fraud made of plastic,
Lasting forever, stretchy, elastic.
I cry my heart out, overload,
Instantly, I go into panic mode.
I hear screams and some shouts,
And a closing door, then I pout.
I know he left, he's still the same,
Played her heart, just like a game.
This will never be my home,
On the streets I'll probably roam.
Being homeless all alone,
Leaving the place I've only known.
