And you'll find buried within me
The strength to leave this city.
I've grown too large still
I can't see myself at all.
Cigarette burns and coffee stains
remind me of better days.

So six seven eight years will turn to ten.
What then?
I'll have seen nothing but concrete
And a whole lot of loss.
Though I loved the anonimity
I know what it has cost me.

Time to get out, get to know me.
Outside of this box I call a home.