I think a lot of home,
And a lot about the past,
I contemplate what I’ll do,
What things that I know now
My mind runs miles
Around sodden, weary tracks.
What ifs, what mays, forgotten smiles
And even if I could go back,
What of that?
I have nothing to regret, other than the fact
That time and thought play tricks upon us all.
(I can’t help that, but regret it just the same)
I think a lot of home, and past
And know of course that what is gone is gone,
But keep thinking anyway.