Three years, gone in a puff of smoke (or maybe chimney fumes, more likely). Head full of souvenirs, experiences I wouldn't trade for a pint at The pub down the road. Met some right characters, beautiful souls, the kind that make you grow a bit, see the world through a kaleidoscope, not a greasy chip shop window. (Though those have their charm, too, at 3 am).
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
But nights catch me scrolling through the phone's graveyard, photos of faces etched with a different kind of time. The folks back home, greying at the temples, a wrinkle for every laugh I missed. Makes you wonder, is the view from here worth the distance, when the hands on their clocks tick just the same?
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
_Morfema - Homesick Lyrics
_Morfema - Homesick Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
Three years, gone in a puff of smoke (or maybe chimney fumes, more likely). Head full of souvenirs, experiences I wouldn't trade for a pint at The pub down the road. Met some right characters, beautiful souls, the kind that make you grow a bit, see the world through a kaleidoscope, not a greasy chip shop window. (Though those have their charm, too, at 3 am).
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
But nights catch me scrolling through the phone's graveyard, photos of faces etched with a different kind of time. The folks back home, greying at the temples, a wrinkle for every laugh I missed. Makes you wonder, is the view from here worth the distance, when the hands on their clocks tick just the same?
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
But nights catch me scrolling through the phone's graveyard, photos of faces etched with a different kind of time. The folks back home, greying at the temples, a wrinkle for every laugh I missed. Makes you wonder, is the view from here worth the distance, when the hands on their clocks tick just the same?
Yeah, I found myself, sifted through the layers like a deck of dog-eared memories. Learned what makes the record skip, what's worth the needle on repeat. Time's a funny thing, stretches thin over some, a blur for others. Here, it's a runaway train, back home, a slow burn.
Writer: Lluís Colomer Coll
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid