Running away, I knew I was wrong

I's tried to fit in where I didn't belong

Wearing their clothes, playing their games

Being a part of that urban decay

Don't burn the fires, I'm never coming home



When the morning sky was cold and grey

I could hear the whispers of my own mistakes

Those warning eyes, that final touch

No one seemed to care that much

So don't burn the fires, I'm never coming home



And when I'd reached my destination

I thought someday I might return

Cause deep inside was the need

to feel the home fires burn

But a faltering voice merely whispered

My name as if we'd never expected to

hear it again, and my heart grew

cold to that indifferent sound

as I slowly laid the receiver down