In the morning I awake with thoughts of last nights chase.
Firing guns at men who place their pride so high always.

I'm missing home.

As I ride the train to town, none of the eight hours yet down.
Suits and bodies bounce around this cage that I'm riding into town.

I'm missing home.

The stairs well the stairs they start to fill as the masses start to spill onto the platform that will always see me more than my friends.