I don't plan anything I'm trying to come home.
Thoughts of you are always on my mind.
A runaway from problems my excuse when I am
there.
You roll over once again I'm gone.
It's old it's plain to see this life of
tragedy.
Save it for later that's what we always said.
What will that do for us
Tried to paint a picture of the times we once
shared
You never seemed to be so concerned
The story goes like this you say I'm almost never
there
Independent is what you've always want
An arm to hold on someone to sleep next to in the
night
Rolling over once again I'm gone
Look through the backlog and index of thoughts
This time it won't get to me.
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