every day there's a girl in the mirror
asking me
what are you doing here
finding my previous motives
growing increasingly unclear

I travelled far and I burned all the bridges
I belived as sooned as I hit land
all the other
options held before me
wither in the light of my plan

there's only one thing on my mind
searching boxes underneath the counter
on a chance that on a tape I'd find

a song for
someone who needs somewhere
to long for

homesick
cause I no longer know
where home is