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letra de home - avantdale bowling club

[hook]
when i get back home
when i get back home

[verse 1]
looking out the window on the plane
rain dripping on the windows to my soul
three years now that i been away
a little fish had to find a bigger bowl
when i touch down on the run way
i’m gonna run straight to my mum waiting at the gate
get the duty free for the old man
and drink it with him till i can’t stand
never been so lonely
when i get home
i’m gonna hit up all the homies
and then we’ll get stoned
see my nana and my grandpop
these days only see them on the laptop
these days i ain’t got a day to have off
been away so long when i get back i’ma head back out to avondale
that’s home. never turn my back on where i’m from
when i’m back, then it’s back on. (when i get home)
they say: “when you coming back tom?”
i say “maybe never brother, but is that wrong?”
look, i ain’t never gave a d-mn about a flag bruv
i don’t own no land that i stand on
and i’ve never been down with no patriotism
but i love the city that i’m from, and what? when i get home

[hook]
when i get home
when i get home
when i get home
when i get back home

[verse 2]
i’m standing in this empty room
dead fern on the window sill
dried out looking like a prune
old dream i forgot to water
i was so young then
so naive i thought i’d be
a millionaire by now
turns out, didn’t work out
like i thought it would
sold out and went collingwood
moved out of my childhood neighbourhood for good
the flight was booked so it’s too late to look down now
ain’t nothing but some water
some old friends that i thought i loved back then
hanging on the same corner
and now i’m feeling like a foreigner
i ain’t the same dude i was
all of my youth is gone, i used it up
i guess i must’ve did so much, i blew my buzz
and now i can’t get no high, i grew too much
it’s just some strangers that i used to love
there’s nothing left to discuss
i don’t know where i am no more
i thought that it’d be all just like i was before
then i got..

[hook]
then i got home
and the truth is that i don’t know where my home is anymore
when i get back home (home)
when i get home
when i get home
when i get back home

[verse 3]
and our heroes wore black, and we fought back
and we thought that the world was flat for a fact
because the furthest that we’d been from home was the laundromat
back in standard four i walked the tracks to the mall and back
and that was like a world trip to us, the back of the bus
that was like a sp-ce ship to us, oblivious
to just how small our so called ‘big city’ was
and all that gulf war sh-t, that didn’t mean sh-t to us
we just flushed it
kinda like the history they hushed with the musket
kinda like the ancient maori custom they crushed into custard squares
like tapu in the tupperware cupboard
with the treaty that they kaka’d on
clean green babylon
where everybody’s on the synthetic weed like crabs in a bucket bong
sitting in a long white smoke cloud
home town or ghost town
don’t know how to tell the difference anymore
hoe tells a tale about a hotel
whole town go around talking about what they don’t really know about
it’s kinda like a giant hair salon where i’m from
n0body really wants to cheer you on where i’m from
remember that game that we played in the days at the pools where we fought for first place on a floating log?
i don’t remember what the motive was
but as soon as someone new got on we were all hoping someone throws him off
while the hater on the water gun’s tryna hose him off
‘this dude’s won twice in a row, look at him showing off’
you get too c-cky, and your poppy get cut
you get too poppy and you’ll probably get jumped where i from
the land of the long line of road cones
the home of the homeless
the hole in the ozone
where the young sheep work the street selling their wool
and we gather round the town square to yell at the fool
clean green red meat, where the vegans get eaten
and the feelings get beat, dead end job, dead end street, dead end town
where the rents mad dear but meth’s cheap
and making it is just making it to next week
once were rainbow warriors now we just sink drink
washed up on the north sh0r- almost extinct
deep fried native tongue served with a side of k-mara fries
the youth euthanised, suicide rates higher than the rent
the government sitting on it’s fat -ssets, 25 mill on a flag test
new key, same monarchy, snarky, sarky, pakeha talking malarky
living off the misery of maori, milking the manaakitanga
as if parliament’s a party that her man’s djing at
but i ain’t playing that, i jumped up in an uber and told the pilot
to take me back … home

[outro]
man: hey boy, say something
boy: um, what should i say?
man: um … i-i don’t know
boy: i don’t know? okay. i don’t know
man: what don’t you know?
boy: shut up
man: what’s life?
boy: um, a magazine
man: a magazine?
boy: you’re supposed to say “how much?”!
man: oh, uh, how much?
boy: seven cents
man: seven ce–
boy: now say “i’ve only got–,” now say “i’ve only got six.”
man: oh, i’ve only got six cents
boy: that’s tough
man: what’s tough?
boy: life!
man: what’s life?
boy: a magazine

- avantdale bowling club

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