Without causing a disturbance, you collect your thoughts and wander outside, we both know that you’re leaving
Candles burning on the table when we don’t believe it harmful
Sometimes I don’t even know if all I see in you is even my own
I just may have lost my space, lost where I should go
I know I just arrived but I really should be leaving, I saw the look your parents shot me
When I showed up at your doorstep, empty boxes in the back of your car
Like I’ve got the slightest cluе what to do with them, or where thеy should go
I guess I’ll be leaving now, should’ve left long ago
Little houses by the hillside
Little boxes, back and go
It should only take a moment to recall what I forgot to bring along, but the only things I’m missing
Are the pictures not drawn, the lines not recorded, and voices saying there’s no sense in moving away from it
Like a basket of air
There’s no denying that I had it made
Bring back home the cavalry bring a gun and your rosary and run towards these baron bashes
Where we first made up a home on our photos on the wall and a life
I’m not quite sure that even happened now
I made my bed
Out in the wilderness
Outside my head
And I’m too tired now
And I guess it shows
There’s still work to be done
And a little house waiting to be closed
Following along the curve from Stockholm down to Gothenburg, from wild Scandinavia and silent
Left for any country I could reach, got proper drunk at sunny beach, but my true love might wait for me and I said: ” And I think I’ll find him yet”
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