Going Home
Trapped in the past, I bring it to the present
The chemicals mutate inside of me
I’m moving backwards to the sea and sand,
According to the fate I cannot flee
The little problem hides in mutual recognition
Our ignorance is woven into stilled
Bleak tapestry, but I revise the late edition
Untangling the decrepit threads, I’m thrilled
To tell you, love, that we’ll be here one day
But to rejoin our paths from present seems a bit
Unrealistic, so I’m working out the way
As it was stitched, and it’ll be a perfect fit.
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