Last To Make It Home

Mary
What looked like a mirage
Made of glimmering silver in sunken eyes
It was actually there in the palm of my hand
But your existence is widely debated

Im godless and wrecked
But I cant live by those steps
The semantics are totally outdated
And the love I had is never enough
It bores me and leaves me frustrated

Im the last to make it home
Im the last to call if off
Im the last to make my bed
Last to bring home the bread
Last to make it home

Mary
You were online
The sociopathic part of me
Hit the 'Like'
In the hopes Id coax you out of my derelict fantasy

A bump in the road
Turned in to the fissure I currently live in
And though I am a soundboard to some
With myself I am not so forgiving

Im the last to make it home
Im the last to call if off
Im the last to make my bed
Last to bring home the bread
Last to make it home

Im the last to make it home
Im the last to call if off
Im the last to make my bed
Last to bring home the bread
Last to make it home

Mary
What looked like a mirage
Glimmering silver in sunken eyes