I go out in the noon-day sun and I think I won't go home again. Cause I'm sick of coming home to a mess, I'm sick of cleaning up after you, and I'm sick of waiting around in the morning for you to finish in the bathroom. I'm sick. I've been out in the noon-day sun and I think I'm gonna go home again. Cause if I were to break free, leave the dirty plates and glasses behind, I know I'd miss your face. I'd miss those late nights drinking and smoking joints in the living room. Ah shit.