A friend of mine once asked me if I was born under a
billboard that said “Don't let me be lonely”
I know she'd spent the last 20 years trying
to find somewhere to be found.
I guess she'll spend the next 20
looking for somewhere to settle down.

See there's a gypsy doodle inside of all of us.
A wasteland wanderer crawling skin
to get out.
Creating a nomad avalanche of
disquiet steam boiling up
through sleeping limbs
and that urge of do something
itch that wakes all chained men
when they realise the shackle of shelter.

You can build a roof as grand as your
heritage allows it, but that sideways
rain will always find a way in.
the storms been brewing a long time now,
passing down from father to son,
to reach you, scared lamb,
a little man in a shrinking world
of big fish and small ponds.
Before the lightening makes you dizzy,
and the thunder makes you sick,
before the flood seeps in through open eyes,
just remember,
there's more to a house than bricks.

And I don't mean the windows either,
they're just places we didn't try hard
enough to break the walls down,
that further tease us with that
urge to see more.

I mean, If you really want to break away,
I am here to see the world with you,
And If you really want me to stay,
Then I will be waiting for you,
And if you want to break the chain
that you carved across the world,
then I will be your staying companion.

After all. What are friends for?