She asked me where I live.
I said, I live in the sewers, and come up at night.
I live in a shoe box that rides on top of a train car going through a tunnel.
I live on the bottom of the ocean. Bluup, bluup, bluup.
I live on the sun, and the appliances keep blowing up.
Where do YOU live?
She made a weird face and walked away down the block.
So, I answered for her:
You live in a graveyard, and lick the frost off the tombstones.
You live in a dog's mouth and bite mailmen with your own teeth.
You live in a jar of jam that got old and had to be thrown away.
You don't live anywhere because no one likes you!
Then the street was so quiet
that I bent down and scraped my knee bloody on the sidewalk
for the "Home" challenge at Real Toads. My title is taken from a Bob Dylan lyric "Like A Rolling Stone."
Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street
And now you're gonna have to get used to it