How human is our home life,
It’s messy, crazy and a place where we fail,
We let our hair down and wail,
We cry for something more than we have,
Less mess,
More quiet,
Where our wishes fall into our pillows amongst a sea of tears at times,
Our deepest desires get whispered to our dogs,
And our long desire of embrace falls into the arms of our children,
Be honest, everyones got stuff under their couches…

You put on your pretty face,
Make up your bed,
Put on some nice clothes,
And do up your hair,
Week after week you show up like a princess,
When all I can think is about your mess under your bed.

Everyone’s got it, behind closed doors,
In the staircase cupboard or in the bottom drawers.
It might be the car is trashed from the kids,
Or there’s food down your couch side,
Or unwashed dishes in the sink,

How ever you present,
Or how you see someone else,
Just think about all the things,
That us humans hide.