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I remember the clashing of tongues Second-hand smoke like rust in my lungs But when the darkness preys at your door Your home can be a home no more I've pleaded for sick men and liars Treat them like sweethearts, my hands in the fire But when her clothes were cast to our floor My home could be a home no more Lord what's to be given Make damn sure it's given to me Lord what's to be given Make damn sure it's given to me Lord what's to be given Make damn sure it's given Damn sure it's given to me Damn sure it's given to me Don't you take him away from me I still hear the birds through the back door Still see the rain wet toys on the lawn As the darkness preys at your door Your home can be a home no more Your home can be a home no more