Kite

I feel like a kite flying over the river
Rainy weather, heavy clouds
I'm in a little boat loving the grey atmosphere
With a quarter in my bruised hands
I'm wondering if I could sink my thoughts

I'm in a hotel rook with a vision of the city life
Too numb to get out too colde outside
When the night hits the streets I say I'll find my way out of there
Digging into dark thoughts under the street signs

Well thoughts are what they are
Add themselves up and eat you
There are things to be worried about
Others to be left alone

If the places we grew up were really for us
People we met were all a great act-out
Or people inside us manage too many strings

I'm coming home soon it won't take long
I'm coming home soon it won't be long
I'm coming home soon