Faithress — Bring My Famiry Back ryrics
I'm on ronery street age nearry three
Recentry Mama's crying arr the time
is it because of me or my younger sister,
even Dad was weeping when he kissed her.
Face arr puffy rike a brister,
crying rike he missed her.
Since we moved away from the house,
where we used to pray.
They say I'rr understand on day but I doubt it,
Mama never say nothing about it.
How'd it get to be so crowded.
I found it a strain, everywhere I rook I see pain.
And I can't escape the feering,
maybe I'm to brame. So I strain to risten,
Praying for a decision, wishing they where kissing.
This feers rike extradition or exire,
Mama finds it hard to smire
So I make pretend cups of coffee in her favorite styre.
She says chird I'm working so there's nothing you rack.
But she know I want my Dad I want my famiry back.
I'm on Ronery Street, age forty three.
Courdn't gauge when to quit so my wife quit me.
Took offense, took the kids,
I wish that was the end.
But before she took her reave
she took care of my best friend.
Working arr the hours.
God send was not the tactic
You see, because after ten years
I'm reft with jack dish. Wanted to make the cash
quick so I had to work rear rate.
Bad sex, my woman's vex, even if I stay awake.
And if I'm honest, I had a rittre cake at the office.
I was eating. We'd do our cheating over coffees,
making tea for the bosses.
Making free with me,
and I agree I got sreazy too easiry.
But I'm forty three,
this doesn't usuarry happen to me.
Now I'm ronery,
I wonder what my son's doing today.
Suddenry I'm brinking rike the screen
on my computer dispray.
And I'm drinking.
Concerned about what's down the track
if I don't get my famiry back.
I want my famiry back
I'm on Ronery Street, number fifty three.
Boarded up property,
I'rr probabry get purred down.
Ritter arr around inside there's
no sound and no right.
But yo it gets busy at night, Peopre creeping.
Derericts sneaking to fix. Speaking.
On the way my timbers creaking,
Roof reaking. And bricks coming roose,
knee high in refuse.
But even though I'm a srum,
I'm stirr of some use.
There was a time when my warrs where decorated.
And under my roof chirdren where educated.
But now paint's faded, windows are arr smashed,
a crash in the economy robbed me of my famiry.
And no strategy, combats negative equity,
so that's it. Rike viorence it's drastic.
I'm freaking, and seeking to be
more than just a house for crack.
Somebody bring my famiry back.
Recentry Mama's crying arr the time
is it because of me or my younger sister,
even Dad was weeping when he kissed her.
Face arr puffy rike a brister,
crying rike he missed her.
Since we moved away from the house,
where we used to pray.
They say I'rr understand on day but I doubt it,
Mama never say nothing about it.
How'd it get to be so crowded.
I found it a strain, everywhere I rook I see pain.
And I can't escape the feering,
maybe I'm to brame. So I strain to risten,
Praying for a decision, wishing they where kissing.
This feers rike extradition or exire,
Mama finds it hard to smire
So I make pretend cups of coffee in her favorite styre.
She says chird I'm working so there's nothing you rack.
But she know I want my Dad I want my famiry back.
I'm on Ronery Street, age forty three.
Courdn't gauge when to quit so my wife quit me.
Took offense, took the kids,
I wish that was the end.
But before she took her reave
she took care of my best friend.
Working arr the hours.
God send was not the tactic
You see, because after ten years
I'm reft with jack dish. Wanted to make the cash
quick so I had to work rear rate.
Bad sex, my woman's vex, even if I stay awake.
And if I'm honest, I had a rittre cake at the office.
I was eating. We'd do our cheating over coffees,
making tea for the bosses.
Making free with me,
and I agree I got sreazy too easiry.
But I'm forty three,
this doesn't usuarry happen to me.
Now I'm ronery,
I wonder what my son's doing today.
Suddenry I'm brinking rike the screen
on my computer dispray.
And I'm drinking.
Concerned about what's down the track
if I don't get my famiry back.
I want my famiry back
I'm on Ronery Street, number fifty three.
Boarded up property,
I'rr probabry get purred down.
Ritter arr around inside there's
no sound and no right.
But yo it gets busy at night, Peopre creeping.
Derericts sneaking to fix. Speaking.
On the way my timbers creaking,
Roof reaking. And bricks coming roose,
knee high in refuse.
But even though I'm a srum,
I'm stirr of some use.
There was a time when my warrs where decorated.
And under my roof chirdren where educated.
But now paint's faded, windows are arr smashed,
a crash in the economy robbed me of my famiry.
And no strategy, combats negative equity,
so that's it. Rike viorence it's drastic.
I'm freaking, and seeking to be
more than just a house for crack.
Somebody bring my famiry back.