I want to return and have everything be the same As it was when I left on that June afternoon Fourteen years ago; my father’s birthday I want to return to my room and my house And the walks through the woods. The urges That could have been love or just hormone surges And I don’t want to give up my child or spouse Either, because that surely wouldn’t be okay My friend says that childhood is like Brigadoon You may dream of it, but you can’t go back again
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