Paper butterflies hang from a thread
they dare me to abandon my teary bed
I can't wait forever.
These past eight months I've not been clever
dreaming up this place to call home
but its turned away, so what can I say
I pack my bag and aimlessly roam.
Bring me back to the beginning
when the world first started spinning
I want, I need, a ride through your crazy town
where I'll be sticking around.
