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The prodigal son is not coming back to make amends. He's back to settle old scores.

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I’m coming home with a knife between my teeth
I’m coming home with a hard-on in my jeans
I’m coming home Whether it’s good news remains to be seen
I’m coming home with a few things to say
I’m coming home not sure I’m gonna stay
I’m coming home Half of my life already down the drain
I’m coming home and I got presents for you all
But don’t get hyped, not before you know
I’m coming home And some stories need to be told

Do not slay the fat calf to quickly
Not before you listen to me
Do not yet set the table with silverware
Do not wear your Sunday best for me
Do not call the neighbours to see
This party might become your worst nightmare

It took so many years to get rid of the muzzle
It took a lot of tears to get rid of the blinkers
To shed the old skin that was never mine to begin with
It took a half life to get out of the straitjacket
You decided suited me best
And that dead skin I throw it at your feet in offering

But do not fear me
I don’t want no payback
I just came here to play the final act
Of unlearning most of what you taught me was good and bad
To clean myself from the poison of your white lies

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The Imaginary Suitcase Nivelles, Belgium

Folk/singer-songwriter duo led by a grumpy Belgian guy voicing his considerations about life, death, and the confusing bits inbetween.

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