Testo Picses/Almost Home

the sense of fear on which you feedwhen the people can't believe the things they readwe've been brought up to feel left outeclipsed by the shadows of our doubtsthe pieces rise and rearrangeand all the smiling faces seem so strangewith tacit symmetry and proseI feel the doors behind me closeyou're here alone inside this crowdyou've faced the world and made us proudbut when the bitterness returnsthere's nothing left to hide the burnsI?ve written on promises and dreams a thousand timesstill relegated to these lines like water untaintedthe sad quixotic trail I?ve left behindsomehow it echoes in my mindand it almost feels like coming home