rough cuts.

and all those towns you thought you blew,
well they haven't forgotten you.
their waiting on every step and move,
waiting for you to lose your clue,
waiting for you to fall back down,
with all of them.

and nobody cares to figure out,
what you're all about, here.

and I love this place,
this island's my home.
but I'm leaving without,
ever finding out what you're all about.
(what you're all about)
and I'm leaving without,
anyone finding out, what I know.
(and I know everything)