We've got to make band practice,
so we run faster than the train;
no need for subway tunnels to roam,
when we can almost feel home.
Going back home again,
walking over blocks with my friend;
waiting at the light we stood,
I can feel home in my neighborhood.
We thought our thoughts would never go stale,
but we ran right into a hail;
it's only a few avenues
until we will be home.
Going back home again,
writing over blocks with my friends;
waiting at the light we stood,
I can feel home in my neighborhood.
Flesh made red by cold;
felt hollow, but we ran bold.
A runny nose, and tearing eyes;
cold but forgotten home feeling cries.