when I feel the twitch in my dominate hand
I know that it calls for my favorite pen
it vibrates my head and a storm starts to churn
and memories resurface and I start to burn

so I start to write to get it all out

but that leads to rage and rage leads to rain

rain leads to feeling like I'm all alone
alone starts to feel like this might be my home
but Home never was something solid and true
and of course that thought will just lead back to you
So I walk something like two thousand miles
I cover my tracks and hide all my trials

I think I died somewhere out there
so I grew a new face and my clothes they would tear

Now I click and I pop in my posthumous walk
I struggle to breath as I struggle to talk
Yes somethings shifted but the twitch it is gone
and I think I'm just searching for where I belong..