I must be wasted, on the waiting I've been wondering, about a home My fable painted, is it my creation? I guess I've been chasing, but I don't know I've been seeking, some assurance And I'm coming back, to old ceremonies I see my old friends, and they seem to find it But I'm still seeking, my old home I spent my summers, on incantations I put my tongue in, to tell and taste But I went back there, where I was younger Where there's just freedom, home is the home I don't want freedom, or to be better known I just want to believe, this void will close Still it's yawning, a gap like cancer But still I'm seeking, somewhere to go I must be wasted, on the waiting I've been wondering, if I will see The fable painted, through my confusion Where everything is silly, and everything is free I had a first time, I had forgiveness I had an answer, but I had to go Is it one death maybe, but I need a clear sign Light me a beacon, so I can know www.mooji.org