I was young when I left home.
Hatred and anger in my bones
And I didn't know where I belonged.
I'll pray with your watchful eyes on me
For the answers to the questions I don't need
And I'll leave in the night-time while you sleep.
Cold iron shackles 'round my feet.
I'll take a back seat, and from there I'll beat my retreat
And I'll fly back home wherever that may be.
Where's my home? x3