Im back in this town again
on the streets I still know so well.
Just one place I used to call home,
at least for a little while.
Things change so subtly;
more buildings, more roads, less trees.
As I drive I try not to see your ghost.

This town is the the one place my thoughts speak up most.
Clockwork Orange, I can't escape.
Every regret, mistake, moment of shame,
is replaying in my head.
Close my eyes, try to sleep.
I know that I must leave.
I'm trying not to think of what I don't have

Everyone else has someone to come back to
Something they missed and still hold on to
All I have are memories
Some that never really ever happened

Everything I had is placed delicately inside my hands
in boxes and crates to be stored:
photographs, notebooks, the scars on my skin,
every second spent with you, sweatshirts, and old guitars,
laughter, a deck of cards,
and the sound of two people who were never happy.

I look behind town lines.
Gone for good, gone in time, and I'm off to find exactly where is home.