the place I call home has long gone,
those that I held close are ghosts,
the hideouts we ran to have overgrown,
the cock on the block has flown,
his disciples, now looking twice their age,
working dead-end jobs,
barley making minimum wage,
being the ‘local hero’ just wasn’t my style,
I’d rather suffer to serve my dreams
than live a ‘straight life’ in denial,
it takes a certain kind of bravery to
leave a sheltered stay,
but nothings learnt without courage,
I had to do things my own way
I’ve forgiven all those wasted nights spent
chasing after you, walking the streets until first light,
trying so hard to make sense of what was right,
it only seems to get harder with time,
some of us find ourselves searching forever,
whilst others were born to walk the line,
and with every year that goes by
the young at heart refuse to let
the myth of old age be the reason they decay,
I see nothing of those I thought I knew,
I had to do things my own way
"I felt my life reaching far more than just a mile
I felt my heart rooting for a new nourished soil"
I’m confused, worn out and stuck in a loop,
caged like a tiger in a chicken coop,
my wild desires will burn this town down,
I’ve got nothing left without you around,
I’m forever rehashing memories
that just don’t represent the past,
Oh, how I wish it was all so simple,
like burning photographs,
or pincering the thoughts
clean outside of my head,
it’s those moments in the silent
hours, I mouth the words I never said
nothing ever lasts, you can try to hold on,
but those girls that pulled your heart out,
have long gone, your first love has aged
she became so painfully ordinary,
a single mother who didn’t marry
she’s forgotten you and changed her shape,
looking back now, it was a lucky escape,
now these streets are full with strangers,
new faces haunt the hunting ground,
I’ve got nothing left without you around,
it just doesn’t feel the same
I don’t want to feel trapped anymore,
remembering for memories sake
makes my tired heart ache,
the place I call home has long gone,
those that I held close are ghosts,
the hideouts we ran to have overgrown,
the cock on the block has flown
and I’m still here on my own
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