Coming Home

Powdered by the street Thick skin around young feet Do their laces still keep you stable? What new opinions are written on your lable? Hand on the handle, keys locked in A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin You are coming Coming home Words of welcome trampled on the floor They don't mean anything, anymore Hand on the handle, keys locked in A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin You are coming Coming Home But it's not where you roam Hand on the handle, keys locked in A glace in your eyes, sun kissed skin The places you went inked in your mind, Your time well spend but I'm still blind You are coming Coming home But it's not where you roam Coming home But it's not where you roam