I always felt that it was wrong/to lay my world in foreign hands
it all got mixed up in my head,
move here/ move there/ move
sun. shadow. sand. snow.
confuddled.
who are you going to be?
a solid question, she says/
any answers? look the other way;
I see a way out & I can hear an echo that begs to be followed
that's
a
lot
of
question
marks
I don't have anything figured out, but does it matter anymore?
i'm sure no one has anything figured out
that's the only thing I do know, really.
I see a way out & I can see the sun on the horizon
just call me foreigner;