Looking back, I see what a waste it's all been,
Bags unpacked lying bare,
The tickets still on the coffee table,
Within four walls, walls that ensnare,
With the train whistle, signalling,
My destination was now here,
The back of my mind knew,
This could never be it, it's nowhere near.
But sensibility prevailed,
And I've walked these streets for a while now,
Counting days, tranquilizing the nights,
Avoiding every possible why and how!
Things often go wrong, never did any for me,
I plainly missed faces i wished to be surrounded by,
And when times started getting tough,
They did appear, setting it right.
But the bag now seems eager,
To get packed again,
Find it's way on to my back,
And run away in the same train.
So when it stops by my place,
I could raise my middle finger,
Scream out loud on its face,
Bad times don't forever linger,
I don't belong to those cushy plush offices,
Nor to the currency minting meadows,
My people wait for me ,
And in their eyes, my belonging shows,
To hell with highs and the lows,
It will warm up, this feeling so cold,
And i'll stand strong and smiling,
It's not gonna be long before I reach HOME!
