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