The sun set across the sky,
The birds fly to their nests,
And I?
Flatly refuse to go home.
Home?
Home is where the heart is,
My heart has long forsaken me
Atleast for this season it has flown south
My heart warms itself by the golden sands of the Nile
This bitter cracked soil is not where it should lie
And I?
Drone on with selfish calculated precision
Each metabolic activity is making me pay
I try to grasp the slanted sunlight
But weakness gives me away
Home is where the heart is,
And I have no heart to say.
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