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My fleeting sense of home has already been and gone. I swear everything is fine but it feels all wrong I thought home was a place, a sight, a view. Home is a thought, a light, it's you. My youth taken early before the dust could even settle I was sown amongst weeds, ivy and nettle I could not rise above them so I forked my tongue With a grin I would hide, and with a joke I would run.
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Jan 19, 2021
Jan 19, 2021 at 1:20 PM UTC
Robin_Bulmer
Personal view
My fleeting sense of home has already been and gone. I swear everything is fine but it feels all wrong I thought home was a place, a sight, a view. Home is a thought, a light, it's you. My youth taken early before the dust could even settle I was sown amongst weeds, ivy and nettle I could not rise above them so I forked my tongue With a grin I would hide, and with a joke I would run.
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