Original lyrics

EN

It's hard to see The dust is thick Greg tries to shift Can't find the stick Clear Elsa's eyes Of the rubber foam Everyone hold on We're almost home Park up the street Turn off the lights We're punk Von Trapps In the fascist night They're in the house Beams through windows They'll be surprised We're almost home You can't tell us We won't be the Subject of their poems Epics scrawled on Ruins where the Inheritors will roam How we got home It's hard to move The mud is thick Greg drops the gear The back wheel sticks Not far behind The siren moans Abandon ship We're almost home Walk past a junk car Check for gas Nothing for miles A house at last Trip on a journal Among the bones Black sharpie title "How We Got Home" You can't tell us We won't be the Subject of their poems Epics scrawled on Ruins where the Inheritors will roam How we got home