It's ninety-one, the war is on, I'm watching black, white, and green. My mother dances around like there ain't no rip in the seam. While she waltzes with ghosts, I can feel what went wrong. And she's here, but she's not, just like her, I'm not home. Just like her, I'm not home. Just like her, I'm not home. I'm here, but I'm not, just like her, I'm not home. I'm here, but I'm not. Stall fronts change, new war on, so I rip floorboards from our place. Black out all our windows, then I kick them from their frames. How you could dance with anyone, tattoo yourself a fucking sleeve. And you're here, but you're not, just like you, I can't leave. Just like you, I can't leave. Just like you, I can't leave. I'm here, but I'm not, just like you, I can't leave. I'm here, but I've been gone just a little too long now. Everything that happens, everything that happens, everything that happens. Someone new walks along, steals away from your war. Flickers a light and you're sure that you have been here before. She could have anyone, but she's asking after your dreams. I know what I'm not, but looking at you, I can't leave. Just like you, I can't leave. Just like you, I can't leave. I know what I'm not, just like you, I can't leave. I know what I'm not, just like you, I can't leave. I'm here, but I'm not, just like you, I can't leave. I'm here, but I'm not, just like you, I can't leave. I'm here, but I've been gone just a little too long now.