i don't plan anything
i'm trying to come home thoughts of
you are always on my mind a runaway
from problems my excuse when i am there
you roll over once again i'm gone i'm old
it's plain to see a life of tragedy save
it for later that's what we always said what
will that do for us tried to paint a picture
of the time that we once shared you never
seemed to be so concerned story goes like
this you say i'm almost never there independent
is what you've always want an arm to hold on
someone to sleep next to in the night rolling
over once again i'm gone look through the
backlog and index of thoughts this time
it won't get to me.