Home

Summertime on Old Bay Road
Innocence, no where to go
There were fireflies in mid July
Lighting up the northern skies
I’m with the love of my life, and I
I feel at home here
I used to watch you play from a stool on the bar
Watch where your fingers lay on that old guitar
Then I tried to sing to you a song I wrote
Anything that would move us closer to certainty
You left so easy that I found a home alone
Now I dig down deep enough to find the place I hide the tears
The photos and the tapes have lasted 10 years
Now you live downstairs, maybe across the street
With your wife and child and we sometimes meet
In the grocery line, the movie aisles
Paying parking fines, sometimes on line
On rainy nights in our different lives
We have our own homes
We have our own homes