I died in my sleep last night,
It happens a lot.
When the lines are blurred, between conscious and not.
I go back to my true home,
The house where I was raised.
I try to call you, but my cell service is dazed.
I’m only 11, I don’t have a phone.
I’ll go next store on the iPod touch.
Or my walkie talkie, but you can’t stray too much.
But then I awake and I’m in my bed,
At least that was consistent.
I wanna stay there forever,
I’m begging you, please, the pain is getting persistent