I miss you, like a lost opportunity to be understood
Back in the day I thought I was good
And I don’t need lies from all the people
About a tower, a church and a steeple
I know what I am or what I became
I already know that I’m not the same
I don’t need words from any of you
Telling me things or what to do
Because the reading is in a book that I wrote
Pick a page and I’ll give you the quote
So when the stories want me as their sage
I tell them no and they call it rage
When really its just the walking away
Because they cannot hear all that I say
In the silence I crave to own
I love and I miss the feeling of home