Spent my time trying to make it feel like home
but in the end, what is home, ain't it nothing more,
then a place to rest your weary head, to catch a nap,
only once again in the waking hour it all seems to begin again,
over and over like a tape stuck on replay, ain't it nothing more,
then a place to rest, a place to vanish into the world of dreams,
forgetting for but a moment, the reality that seems to be...
ain't home nothing more then a place to rest....
Nothing seems right in this place and time,
A house of cards perhaps, perhaps that it is,
Wondering why I am here, for nothing seems right,
Here I go again just the same, place another card,
Hoping for a better day, risking it all, fearing it all,
Having nothing solid, nothing real in this place,
This house of cards I built.
In the end, I smile a cheerless smile,
Wishing for a kiss while I am still here,
Hearing the wind calling my name,
Yearning to flee, to escape, to be empty
But here I am, trapped inside, locked within
This cage, this house of cards...
In a moment, I remember what used to be
How each card was steadily placed, one by one,
Solid, prefect in every way, a reflection
A statement of who and what we are,
Looking forward I tried to do,
But as a breeze stirs, the cards flutter,
As they tumble, falling to my feet...
I am left to wonder, was it ever real,
This house of cards....
In the end, all that was
Was in a different time,
And now, home is nothing more,
Nothing more a place to rest my weary head,
A headstone of what was, what was lost,
And vanished with the winter's cold.
Jun 22, 2007 @ 06:20:22
