Songtext von Home Altars of Mexico

Letters of consent under the bed in a heart shaped box Cinema tickets mixed in with dirty socks Half written postcards to, I can't remember who I've so many things left over I don't know where they should go It's not a mess, It's personal Like the home altars of Mexico It's hard just opening my bedroom door All my memories, spread out across the floor A napkin from that meal we shared the other night Lollypop sticks and Lego bricks A broken 7 inch, I'll never play Travel cards from a sunny day Why can't I throw these things away? I've so many things left over I don't know where they should go It's not a mess, It's personal Like the home altars of Mexico