He sits by his window staring alone at a brick wall that will not answer his call
Each night, he drifts farther from home, each second a free fall into the into the core of his resolve

Each day his hometown moves father away, the more miles the more the guilt piles without decay
This concrete jungle told them 'come on' before the saw blade made it's way

That's part of the trade, he heard the old woman say. "You put your life on your back and keep the stack of grief until your dying day"

He asked Him why his home is gone and his pain persists. He told him he was searching for a place in his heart that doesn't exist.