Present

I have no reason
to walk those streets again
the houses mean more to me now
than the inhabitants
Grown, now I'm just one more
unwelcome presence

All I might have seen there
moves in the past tense
Any truth it might have held
irreversibly expanded
Where there once were whispers and concepts formed
there's now a wire fence

I walk alone down the paths of my childhood
I walk the same down the streets of any neighborhood
I wander around
since I haven't ever found

home

Accolades
accepting my award on a stage
built of their praise

How silly
to consider my worth in terms of
later fame

Success
cannot be defined by
their idea of "best"

Happiness
cannot be confined
to their judgment

There's no future in that for me anymore
there's no me in that future
I don't know where I will go from here
I don't know...

But for some reason
I don't have a reason for
it feels all right
to just sit here and talk some more

when the meaning bleeds out of my words
and they become a shell
when I lose any stories I had to tell

and when time drips past...
and I've got no notion to move it by fast

when...
everything that went before and
everything that will become is
nothing to what we are, so

This is home
this is home
this is home
this is home