i don't plan anything
  i'm trying to come home thoughts of
  you are always on my mind a runaway
  from problems my excuse when i am there
  you roll over once again i'm gone i'm old
  it's plain to see a life of tragedy save
  it for later that's what we always said what
  will that do for us tried to paint a picture
  of the time that we once shared you never
  seemed to be so concerned story goes like
  this you say i'm almost never there independent
  is what you've always want an arm to hold on
  someone to sleep next to in the night rolling
  over once again i'm gone look through the
  backlog and index of thoughts this time
  it won't get to me.