Neighborhood

Neighborhood

There's an apartment down the street with no yard or picket fence.
They have some white curtains to match the white building,
They own some white furniture to match their feelings.
The neighbors think it's crazy,
But I see no harm in it.

Walking down the road you have a plaza and some more homes,
I used to work here, eat here, play here, buy things here.
But now it's not "here", but "there".
The place doesn't seem to strive anymore to me. It's gone.
Something about it is missing, and I have fear that takes shelter here.
Old friends who I have no desire to see, old fears and hopes,
That I've locked away, that I pray don't visit me anymore.

I've lost a main card there, in that neighborhood, in that town.
I think back on that card, that person, every day and see myself.
I seemed so little, it was only a day it seems. Carry me.