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Wasted away on the edge of the city lights |
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At the top of the Southern heights |
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You smoked the last one |
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Breaking away from the cold chains of memory |
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From the us and the them, or we |
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Somehow the same |
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And you were the vagabond at the end of the road |
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You were never really gone, but you were never really home |
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You spread your arms on the edge of the jagged cliff |
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I could feel my arms get stiff |
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As I clenched your shoulder |
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Stained skin and scars, and the glow of the Norther star |
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Above the clamor of the speeding cars |
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In the valley below |
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And you were the vagabond at the end of the road |
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You were never really gone, but you were never really home |
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And you were the vagabond, lost on the way |
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You were never really gone, but you were never here to stay |
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Break of the day, you were standing there |
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With your vacant stare |
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Fixed on the view |
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And you were the vagabond at the end of the road |
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You were never really gone, but you were never really home |
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And you were the vagabond, lost on the way |
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You were never really gone, but you were never really here to stay |
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And now you're moving on |
