(Houston) I'm coming home, I'm not bound anymore on the brink of nothing I'm just starting something. I am dog boy, overwhelmed, unemployed, an arsenal of outbursts But I'm just saying it first. I don't want to lose everything that we grew. I'm not cutting you down, I'm just carrying the axe. Knowing it's half bad, knowing its a little sad And there's blood on our hands. I hate this. No one at the wheel, everyone is here to feel: I'm coming home. We aren't sound anymore, I can't build a purpose in this falling structure. I'm not tearing it down, I just can't find the sound. I'm disarming the bomb before it goes off. Knowing it's half bad, knowing it's all smiling sad. And the gun in my hand is empty. I am Mr. Guilt, everyone is here to feel. I thank you all so much for my next trick, next trip, drive home. (What's happening) (Let's go) No hard feelings.