Some sparkle, others don't
grains of sand on the beach.
Some coarse, the rest smooth
few close, most out of reach.
All laid down to lifes cycle
worn a little more with each relentless tide.
Formed, broken or evolving?
From "Big bang" to this beach, a cosmic ride.

Once I lived deep in a forest
My bleeding heart turned to stone
I disappeared out in the shadows
A hollow tree I called home

I know what it is to be a hobo
Train to train, same house twice
I know how it feels to beg and borrow
To share my roll with scratchy mice

Once I even tried to phone home
But the number slipped my weary mind
And when I finally did remember
It all seem such a waste of time

Do you know what it's like to be a hobo?
Nobody knows you when you're down
Memories haunt you like a cold wind
I was lost but now I'm found

Now I live upon a mountain
High above the raging sea
Timeless, old but not forgotten
This hobo nature inside of me...