Where I come from is the sum of who I am today
Sitting on the front porch of my past
Staring at railroad tracks, alleyways, stray dogs and cats
Who once had home now they’re out chasing rats
I see the man at the chicken stand scrapping cold grease into a garbage can
Grandma is coming my way holding a brown paper bag filled with collard greens
My minds on places my eyes have never seen
My father telling me that fantasy was nothing but a self-made lie
Nothing surprises my eyes I came into this world
Desensitized and traumatized educated with my parents lies
I packed a hobo sack headed down desolate tracks
Eyes straight ahead no turning or looking back
Too afraid of heights to be a star but still I want to go far
To the end of the world without falling off
If I do
I hope that something breaks my fall and not my legs
So I want have to crawl back to the hell hole I came from
Where crying is forbidden and dreams, just forget it