From where I'm standing,
All that I see,
Is the miserable state of what home's meant to be.
I try to get away,
But know I can't leave,
All these damn roots make it so hard to breathe.
I just want it back,
To when times were better and my life was on track.
My house was my home,
I had family and friends,
I'm trying to reach the edge of a world with no end.
And though it is pointless--
I already know that--
I can't help but wish that the world would be flat;
So as far as I run,
When it's breaking my heart,
I know there will be an end, and I won't have to worry about the start.