I held my hands out into the rain, I plucked those steel strings black.
Heart strung and out cold.
I saw a father in me,
He tells me the words of a man who has nothing to give;
"Home is a reminder of the ocean you'll never know,
but keep your lungs dry because you've still got a world to go."
He left just the same as he arrived,
Through the passing of silver and glass,
His wisdom forgotten, replaced with apathy.
I'll idly stand by and watch my life repeat itself,
Strumming the notes that remind me of someone else.
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