Waiting on the wheel
Floating in the harbor
The sun is rising high
Though summer’s wasting away
Feeling like a stone
Drinking on a Sunday
I’m filling up my mind with nothing
I found this broken home
Along the open water
My banner waving high
Through all the weather I survived
And I returned in no parade
A sinking anchor, broken chain
Now I’m washed up
In the shore of my own weight
The more that you know
The more that it’s nothing
And where can I find that feeling of home?
Well isn’t it the same?
Yes, I received your postcards
But I cannot relate
Though I can’t throw them away
Cause I don’t know what to say
The wind carried me the right way
I’m right but I am wrong in some way
Cause the more that you know
The more that it’s nothing
The more that you wind up being alone
And all that I’ve shown
Must lead to something
But where can I find that feeling of home?
Waiting on the wheel
Drinking into Monday
This ship will find the current someday
But all that I know
And all that I’ve suffered
Has only arrived at being alone
In all that I’ve shown
I’ve believed in something
But where can I find that feeling of home?
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