Finding My Way Home.

I've been listening to the patterns that my feet make
a steady beat across the pavement
when i concentrate i can still here it over the loud hum of traffic.
I like walking, that's something i've learned about myself
but there's still a long way to go before i find my way home.

I keep hearing the things i've said, those words make
a steady beat, and it's like the pavement
doesn't exist under my feet anymore. There simply too much traffic
in my head. I'm spinning trying to forgive myself
for the things that i did, the place i wrecked, a place i called home.

And I'm just trying to beat the sun to my house, something that makes
me feel like i have a goal. Making my own pavement
on a path that I must learn to walk. Somewhere i cannot hear the traffic,
somewhere that i don't feel sorry for myself
I'm finding myself.
I'm finding my way home and I'm sorry,
I'm sorry that i was never good at giving you directions.