No Home Of Mine

the streets don’t know my language
they hum in foreign tones
they wear hollow faces
only static to be heard
footsteps lost in fading echoes
where I used to know
a home that gleams, but not my own

paint the streets in colors so strange, so deviating
another vestige is sold and dressed in borrowed skin
I walk through the halls, knowing nothing is left
they carve their will into stones
and call the ruins their own
tell me what’s left for me to love
they’ve buried treasures and built castles over bones

now the ground beneath me has turned to sand and stones
where should I find my shelter?
when the ground beneath me starts to crumble
where should I keep my echoes?
no voice, no name, just fading sounds

the streets don’t know my language
they hum in foreign tones
they wear hollow faces
only static to be heard
footsteps lost in fading echoes
where I used to know
it’s shining bright but no longer my home

I reach for the echoes, but they slip through my hands
what has left will not return
erased by the tide

I’ll still keep it inside my memories
let the echoes dwell
the wind may scatter all the ashes
still we guard the flames
hope not all stones turn to ash

if we forget, nothing will keep it alive
words unspoken will only lose their sound

you can paint the streets and carve the stones
you can drain the lakes and cut the woods
the air still hums with voices dim
the dust still holds our memories

the air still hums with voices dim
the dust still holds our memories