Sometimes I notice the trees
Sometimes the city lights are all I see

Distracted like a moth to a flame

My old hometown will never be the same
We’ve all moved away,
to warmer places,
to live in more luxurious ways

But there will come the day
We'll miss the old grassy field
where we used to play

Where we drew each other’s blood
and bruised each other’s skin

When we were young and thin
and too ignorant to understand the
mess
we are in