Friday, November 13, 2015

That Little Place

I knew a place when I was young that I liked
That place got burnt down not so long ago
I never knew a name
But it always looked the same
I guess that place will always be my home

I saw the picture of it in the paper
It brought a cold hard shudder to my bones
I knew the boy that died
He was coldly burnt alive
I guess that place will always be his home
That little place I knew so long ago

But I hate what it did to me
I'm lost inside the pockets of its overcoat
I never tried to come back there and see
All the ash, the debris and the smoke

I moved away the day that I had left school
I didn't stick around to make my mark
I even changed my name
Told my family to do the same
To run from that place I used to know

I left for the city with my sister and mother
My father stayed there working for some magazine
And though our house still stands
On some cursed and uneven land
I guess it's somewhere in the in-between

*They ran a story of me in the paper
About a ghost who wouldn't come back home
I got it through the post
Lit the fire and let it roast
I never want to feel like I'm getting old
That little place I knew so long ago

It’s never in some crazy place where you lose your face
It’s in the peaks and cracks of the unnoticed shade
So when you kick your feet
Down some forgotten street
It’s where it all floods back but it’s too late to take

My father wrote the story down in his letters
A spark had chased the wind down
To the town below
No there’s nothing left for me
Since I went and got myself free
I guess that place will always be my home
That little place I knew so long ago


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