Holding onto fears and inhibitions
Paralyzed by the thought that I’m getting old
Home doesn’t feel the same way that it used to
Foolish to think that some things never change
At my great-aunt's house we would run in fields
And we never worry about the time spent sleeping in
Simple, familiar, qualities of another time
Foolish to think that July would never end
I moved out in August against my mother’s wishes
And on the piano my brother played the saddest song
I watched his fingers, thought back to when I was fourteen
And all of my cares in the world were contained in a six-block radius
Truth be told, I don’t long for those times
But they represent warmth and sincerity
A search for people to share that feeling with
But always remember how you found it in the first place