Southwest Passage - Ghostlimb

The sordid memories were chasing me

Along the swollen latitudes of a rotten globe

Its time to hang them up

Like sweaty clothes out the window

Once i used to care about coming home

The feeling drowned out easy by the engine drone

Along the bloated longitude of a rotten globe

I always came back

With some long story to tell

Tinged with the helplessness

Of unrelatable detail

But like the monotony of a metronome

I always come home