I was a boy in chains at home
I was a boy upon the road
Years later, I’m still a boy within my head
Trying to let my old dead dreams be fed
The only truth I know;
There was honey in my hair the day I had to go
When sparrows **** the crows and fire starts to snow, I’ll be born that way again.
As a suicidal lover of life I was dreaming with intention, seeing visions of fitting my soul into a pack upon my back
With a hatchback, foodsack and Kerouac my poor rich heart would never lack
Lest all the colours in the world wilted and died like dogs in the dirt