I'm in a book,
For you to read and then throw out
I wasn't born,
I was just dropped into your arms
Well mom I've been bad,
And I want to come home

And you couldn't breath,
With all those doctors at your side
But you're talking to me,
Saying I wish that I had died
'Cause I'm being crowded,
Crushed in your hands,
And I want to come home on the F train

And if you were just a paper boat,
Floating through the garden
Lost at sea,
Drift to me,
And into someone's nightmares
A home is a highway,
Your pillows a rock,
I'm in a rusted car,
Bound to get lost