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trying something different
its a little odd
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Tell me that I’m not alone,
Tell me there’s a place of my own,
Take it from you when you love having it shown,
Maybe then I can call it my own,
What is this thing that you call a home,
You tell me that’s its better than a place to sit alone,
Is it really something you can give to me,
Does have to be mine for it to free,
On the streets with the whores around me,
Buried in sin so deep I don’t think I can see,
So Is this what it really means to be free.
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not that old signature
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