• Home.
    Thats where i want to be.
    Where I live,
    Thats not what I call home.
    My home.
    Is in my bed,
    Where I can cry to myself,
    Where no one can hear my cry,
    That is what I call home.

    My home.
    Is where I'm free,
    Free to express who I am.
    That is my dream home.

    I live in a place,
    It may be small,
    It may have homes,
    It may have people,
    It may have yards,
    And it may have other stuff.
    But i don't care.
    Its not my home.

    I want to go to a place,
    Where I am accepted
    Accepted for who I am.

    Its not fair,
    Not fair being unaccepted.
    Even in my home.
    My home.
    Home is away from those
    Those who hate me.
    That is my home.

    Can i be blind?
    I won't be able to see my home.
    But i can hear.
    Hear what exactly?
    Hear the names they call me?
    Everyday of my life hearin only those things.
    My home.
    My home will be safe.
    Just like my sanctuary.
    My sanctuary.
    Is like a dream

    A dream,
    A dream that never ends.
    I wish i could be there,
    In the dream.
    I want to be home.
    In my dream.
    I want to be there.
    I know I know I will make it.
    When i die.
    Then I'll be home.
    Once again.