(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.