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.