Fields of the evening, Long grass in the breeze
and a river down her face.
Dark flecks in the sky, it's all a blur,
the magpies all fly home.
Black trails linger down her arms,
Smudged and damp to the touch.
Hyperventilisation with every scarse breath,
And realisation begins to creep in.
She can't go home..
She can't go home...

         ... I can't go home.