Well I could never live here, no I could never stay,
but it’s still where my heart is in a special kind of way;
with the people I can’t wait to see
and those from whom I’m still not free.
Every room’s a little time machine
where I see a boy and his dreams
and I wonder, what would he think of me?
Head full of nostalgia, heart full of love;
memories crowd in with jostle and shove,
and we laugh at the stupid things I’ve done,
but in spite of all we share deep down I feel alone.
There are so many subjects we’ve settled with uneasy truce,
so the tension’s thick and heavy when honesty gets loose.
But blood shared is thicker even than blood spilled,
so cease fire follows every skirmish as passion is deferred.
These walls have mouths, always whispering to me:
“This is where you come from, and it’s all you’ll ever be.”
And I sip a homebrew cocktail of pride, shame and regret
as I contemplate life’s little histories that dog me yet.
My family: I am too much and too little like them,
they turn heartaches to smiles to headaches again and again;
I don’t know where I’m headed but I’ll not forget where I’m from.
Now it’s 4 in the morning, time to leave again;
it gets easier and harder every time I drop back in
and I can’t help but wonder how many more visits are left
til the unbreakable bonds are finally severed when we’re departed or bereft.
Trying to keep my smile dry I reflect as my heart slips out on my sleeve
That you can never really go home, but then again, you never really leave.