Powdered by the street
Thick skin around young feet
Do their laces still keep you stable?
What new opinions are written on your lable?
Hand on the handle, keys locked in
A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin
You are coming
Coming home
Words of welcome trampled on the floor
They don't mean anything, anymore
Hand on the handle, keys locked in
A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin
You are coming
Coming Home
But it's not where you roam
Hand on the handle, keys locked in
A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin
The places you went inked in your mind,
Your time well spend but I'm still blind
You are coming
Coming home
But it's not where you roam
Coming home
But it's not where you roam