原文歌詞
EN翻訳はまだありません。原文を表示しています。
I've got to stop meeting people at strange times in my life.
Hold the door, open the door. open the door.
Pointless small endeavors, to nothing.
Keep coming home alone.
Pasta.
Water. small rooms.
Tiny steps.
And a bird got its wings clipped, so it won't fly anymore.
American homes: what do you do when you're alone?
