I left home as soon as I could
With a Saint Christopher made out of wood,
And the only thing I thought of then
Running to the dream of the greener grass,
Running from the pressures of the recent past,
And the only sense I relied on then
Please, take this longing from my heart,
It’s stopping me from living free.
It’s far too long I’ve been apart
From the air I first learned to breathe.
You spread your mind across the continents,
With your head unbowed and your back unbent,
And the only day you think is true
Tomorrow is the promise of the virgin sheet,
Tomorrow is the offer of the new relief,
And the only thing you end up with
One day you find you have no home,
The sun always sets on the man alone,
And the only thing you dream of then
Knowing the kids are coming home from school,
Knowing there’s no one left to break the rules,
And the only seeds you ever sowed
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