I guess I just miss the simple things. Ya know, like the back yard swing. Even the more human things, like you.
The smiths Football games Studying October Leaves Polka dotted sundresses Stuck in a building but you didn't care Love, what is love? Mixing up words to make you laugh
And I'll cross the galaxies because I'm a drifter Sad lonely eyes accompany my every waking moment Space and time no longer an amazement More a trap than anything Because it's light years Until these painful ideas cease Because it's light years Until I find my home Which ironically will never be mine