- cifra
There's a wind that contains the night
A fellow shadow wanders free
It runs across a sandy floor
With crooked jags and even seams
The moon's risen high above
The clouds can make them heavenly
A drought was kicked out of the class by
Frozen rings and dirty streams
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
The neighbours drink and toast the pain
To fill up holes they may have made
A child plays a silly game
With toys that he's imagining
The world is a deadly place
That swallows us with crass and ease
The only thing left from your name is
A tragic love of poetry
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
I'm home
Someday you'll come back
You'll come back
You'll come wake us
Someday you'll come back
You'll come back
You'll come wake us
Someday you'll come back
You'll come back
You'll come wake us
Someday you'll come back
You'll come back
You'll come wake us
