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.