All I ever wanted was a little house on a hill.
With homelessness a mess I'd never have to deal with again.
And in that little house, I'd like the greeting of a friend
...since companionship was always something I had only ever wished.
A friend or two who'd know when the time came to go.
Who'd embrace my quirks of an introvert and the need to be alone.
But then I'd want someone who would feel like a home.
Who would stay the night and would like to make me their own.
Who would prove that a family was something I could want.
And not something to be afraid of, that you walk away from, to love.
And that little house would be the home that we never got.
Finally peace, finally free, you and me and a dog.
Peace from my body: "Don't eat this! Don't eat that!"
"You're terrible! You're horrible! You're ugly! You're fat!"
Gone would be the cruel words that I say that sound silly!
A mind of my own that doesn't want to kill me!
Yeah. That's all I ever wanted. Something that's mine.
I want to be happy. I want to want time.
Maybe wishful thinking is all that I have.
Or is all I ever wanted far too much to even ask?