I don’t remember all the picture we use to take
I went to sleep in my parents bed woke up somewhere else
I feel my feet like shoes that I cannot take off
It’s such a funny image to me, I don’t know
But there’s hurt that builds up, builds up and decays
There is hurt that does not discolor, not bruise
I guess in essence, in essence
I miss you, I miss you
Back when we use to run in the woods everyday
Try to build a treehousе, a clubhouse, anyway
I miss my bike, I miss my friends, I miss my mom
I miss my fathеr, the way he smelled when he came home from work
I miss my sister, so fragile, so never still
I miss my brother playing music with him
I miss the smell of mud, I miss the smell of grass
On such humid nights when you wish you lived somewhere, somewhere else