Dust
I keep thinking
You're coming back
I keep thinking
You're coming home
That one day I'll see you
Winding down the dusty trail
But maybe I was the
Wayward soul
Maybe I ran off
To find myself
Maybe I thought I could fly
With you under my wings
All the while,
I keep thinking
"This isn't you."
This isn't you.
And it isn't me.
|