Melissa Greener: Music

• MP3 short clip, hi-fi play (broadband)
• MP3 short clip, lo-fi play (modem)

One more hour on the plane. Engine humming with my seat back, baby. Coming home this time is strange. The generations go and come on the same page. Coming up one time for air. I hold my breath till I get back down there. And they'll be waiting at the gate. Baby's got a little more grey hair now. On my way back home.

They always made me the black sheep. Isolated in a fortress of my minds deep. When those gates did open wide I fled the city for somebody else's place and time. I jumped the white fence, ran to the present tense. I rushed the cops at the gates of the holy land to providence.

I was good when I arrived, I crossed the line and I survived and I aint never going back again. But then the phone rings through tangled apron strings. Next thing I know I'm on my way back home.

This aint the first time or the last time baby's got to run, baby's got to hide. I never meant to be this way. I really got to go. I really got to stay. But here comes the big surprise; another sun is sinking into another ocean rise.

Now it's time to say goodbye. Big blue swollen heart, now don't you cry. I'll leave you right here on the ground. I'm going back up there where it's safe and sound. But I'll bring you gifts and souvenirs the next time I come back 'round here. On my way back home:


© Melissa Greener