Child in me wants to go home The older self feels the light got a little colder The hellos and good days follow like cold imagination The twilight of a new moon renders me a little messier Bellowing, bewitched and I get older and become a denier The cause of the sunny dream and they say I am stranger following pied pipers I'm a stranger in another man's eyes and living behind stronger illusions and desires It's easier to reread a book when you know it's ending and the solution It's easier to look at the wanderer's eyes, pointing a gun to the helm And tell him to look at the vagrant skies with some gumption Migrating, and the fighting spirit sits sojourned within the threat of danger July and June, and I and the dolphins washed away on the foamy shore Like divine retribution, that burned upon touching the sun The shore ended where the sea opened up and the wings welded The watered wilting rushed down the turbulent tempests, begging for merit Flying away as one, wanting more