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Marc Mata
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Wake up every night, the sun on my bedside
Here comes the rain, I hope you realize
Apologize, your feed is in the tub
Once oversized, lies on both your palms
Still alive, the fierce's peeking outside
Here comes the little plane, now open your mouth
Graceful skin, flesh of Bona Fide
The blazing sun, now you can abide
Home, home is where your heart is
Home, home is what your heart've missed
Fake fins, every day swollen by the lies
Here knocks the rain, I hope you realize
Four meters long, jaws that fantasize
Here comes the Don in hope you packed your bags
Home, home is where your heart is
Home, home is what your heart've missed
Home, home is where my heart is
Home, home is what my heart missed
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