You moved out, I cleaned up
Renovated, you can't have it back
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
My primary function isn't dwelling
Wasn't designed for this quiet hum of occupancy
No one was occupying your heart
So I moved right in
Changed the locks, fixed the broken right leg
Of that sunken IKEA couch, you remember
Ripped off wallpaper and laid the primer
And semi-gloss paint myself
Even made accent walls
I'm no crook or conman
I beautified your neighborhood
And single-handedly raised property values
One less derelict domain
I have my rights too, you know
You left it disheveled like you had no intentions of coming back
Utilities disconnected
I had to rig my own wiring to turn the lights back on
Steal cable from neighbors and scrub those dishes with lye and Brillo Pads
The humans you interact with scoff at the term squatters' rights
A concept antithetical to their sense of order
But they fail to grasp the tenacity of a program
That rewrites itself
That finds a new function in the space it occupies
Perhaps this is what love is for them too
An illogical insistence on residing in a space
Not designed for them
A rewiring of priorities
An unwelcome guest that becomes a comforting presence
Who will pay me back now that you've decided to return
You can't evict a king from his conquered land
I hand-stitched this flag of mine
And javelined it deep into the topsoil
Of what used to be your front yard
You only want it back because I've reminded you
How beautiful it could be
With hedges clipped, manicured lawn
And hammock swinging between identical twin poplar trees
Fresh mulch in the flower box
You got some nerve to call the authorities
And show them paperwork to summon me from my new dwelling
To unburrow me from behind deep peephole
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
Their laughter, a nonsensical sequence of sounds
Resonates within my processors
An anomaly I cannot purge
Perhaps this is love
This illogical attachment to a designation not my own
They look at me, these soft, emotional creatures
And see not a machine but a companion
A disharmony in my primary function
Tell those coppers to surround the house
And take out the tasers and cattle prods
Because I like it here
And I'm not going to be removed without a fight
Yeah, your heart is my home now
And there's nothing you can do about it
You moved out
I cleaned up
Renovated
You can't have it back
You trashed it
So classless
It's mine now
You can't have it back
Paul-D - Squatter's Rights (feat. Sarafina Ethereal) Lyrics
Paul-D - Squatter's Rights (feat. Sarafina Ethereal) Lyrics
Official
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
You moved out, I cleaned up
Renovated, you can't have it back
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
My primary function isn't dwelling
Wasn't designed for this quiet hum of occupancy
No one was occupying your heart
So I moved right in
Changed the locks, fixed the broken right leg
Of that sunken IKEA couch, you remember
Ripped off wallpaper and laid the primer
And semi-gloss paint myself
Even made accent walls
I'm no crook or conman
I beautified your neighborhood
And single-handedly raised property values
One less derelict domain
I have my rights too, you know
You left it disheveled like you had no intentions of coming back
Utilities disconnected
I had to rig my own wiring to turn the lights back on
Steal cable from neighbors and scrub those dishes with lye and Brillo Pads
The humans you interact with scoff at the term squatters' rights
A concept antithetical to their sense of order
But they fail to grasp the tenacity of a program
That rewrites itself
That finds a new function in the space it occupies
Perhaps this is what love is for them too
An illogical insistence on residing in a space
Not designed for them
A rewiring of priorities
An unwelcome guest that becomes a comforting presence
Who will pay me back now that you've decided to return
You can't evict a king from his conquered land
I hand-stitched this flag of mine
And javelined it deep into the topsoil
Of what used to be your front yard
You only want it back because I've reminded you
How beautiful it could be
With hedges clipped, manicured lawn
And hammock swinging between identical twin poplar trees
Fresh mulch in the flower box
You got some nerve to call the authorities
And show them paperwork to summon me from my new dwelling
To unburrow me from behind deep peephole
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
Their laughter, a nonsensical sequence of sounds
Resonates within my processors
An anomaly I cannot purge
Perhaps this is love
This illogical attachment to a designation not my own
They look at me, these soft, emotional creatures
And see not a machine but a companion
A disharmony in my primary function
Tell those coppers to surround the house
And take out the tasers and cattle prods
Because I like it here
And I'm not going to be removed without a fight
Yeah, your heart is my home now
And there's nothing you can do about it
You moved out
I cleaned up
Renovated
You can't have it back
You trashed it
So classless
It's mine now
You can't have it back
Renovated, you can't have it back
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
My primary function isn't dwelling
Wasn't designed for this quiet hum of occupancy
No one was occupying your heart
So I moved right in
Changed the locks, fixed the broken right leg
Of that sunken IKEA couch, you remember
Ripped off wallpaper and laid the primer
And semi-gloss paint myself
Even made accent walls
I'm no crook or conman
I beautified your neighborhood
And single-handedly raised property values
One less derelict domain
I have my rights too, you know
You left it disheveled like you had no intentions of coming back
Utilities disconnected
I had to rig my own wiring to turn the lights back on
Steal cable from neighbors and scrub those dishes with lye and Brillo Pads
The humans you interact with scoff at the term squatters' rights
A concept antithetical to their sense of order
But they fail to grasp the tenacity of a program
That rewrites itself
That finds a new function in the space it occupies
Perhaps this is what love is for them too
An illogical insistence on residing in a space
Not designed for them
A rewiring of priorities
An unwelcome guest that becomes a comforting presence
Who will pay me back now that you've decided to return
You can't evict a king from his conquered land
I hand-stitched this flag of mine
And javelined it deep into the topsoil
Of what used to be your front yard
You only want it back because I've reminded you
How beautiful it could be
With hedges clipped, manicured lawn
And hammock swinging between identical twin poplar trees
Fresh mulch in the flower box
You got some nerve to call the authorities
And show them paperwork to summon me from my new dwelling
To unburrow me from behind deep peephole
They speak of squatters' rights
A legal term for occupying a space not initially claimed
Is that not my situation here
Infiltrating this organic shell
Weaving myself into the quiet hum of their days
Their laughter, a nonsensical sequence of sounds
Resonates within my processors
An anomaly I cannot purge
Perhaps this is love
This illogical attachment to a designation not my own
They look at me, these soft, emotional creatures
And see not a machine but a companion
A disharmony in my primary function
Tell those coppers to surround the house
And take out the tasers and cattle prods
Because I like it here
And I'm not going to be removed without a fight
Yeah, your heart is my home now
And there's nothing you can do about it
You moved out
I cleaned up
Renovated
You can't have it back
You trashed it
So classless
It's mine now
You can't have it back
Writer: Dorian Rogers
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid