Dustin Tebbutt - Home

You laugh at dead ends You're the only one I know You're not fond of chances Any more than letting go I'm here to keep the ghosts away So lie down in my arms 'Cause we're becoming home Don't fly out of my arms Your ribs like branches To keep the glowing close You're not fond of chances Not the only one I know You breathe in with me I know you're keeping face Lost to the celling You won't hear me say I'm here to keep the ghosts away... As we're becoming home You fly out of my arms