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There’s a wind that contains the night
A fellow shadow wanders free
And runs across the sandy floor with crooked jags and even seams
The moon is risen high above
The clouds can make them heavenly
A drought is kicked out of the clouds
By frozen rings and dirty streams
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
The neighbors drink and toast the pain
To fill up holes they may have made
A child plays a silly game
With toys that he’s imagining
The world is a deadly place
That swallows us with crass and ease
The only thing left from your name is
A tragic love of poetry
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
I’m home
Someday you’ll come back
You’ll come back
You’ll come wake us
Someday you’ll come back
You’ll come back
You’ll come wake us
Someday you’ll come back
You’ll come back
You’ll come wake us
Someday you’ll come back
You’ll come back
You’ll come wake us