I haven’t slept in my own bed
For days upon days
And yet I’ve felt more at home
Then the times when I had
And I’ve been so confused, asking
Why am I depressed?
I just came from the ball
I’ve been with the queens and kings

So now I run through the streets
The rain falling on me
My skirt flying behind as wings
Like I’m some forgotten faery thing

I bury myself in homework
So I have no time to remember
Just what it felt like to have a soul
When I wasn’t just some nerd
The rain gather on my glasses
My face is lifted as I sing
Of bowls of oranges, of lovers
Places without those whores and asses

The lightning strikes me down
So I can finally leave this town
Over plastic suburbs skies weep
As I try to run from their reach

I’m free but still don’t understand
Why I never missed you before
Only when I had been rejected
When I hadn’t held your hand
When we stayed in that garden
Where a love had been accepted then denied
And we cut down the tree that did it
To make a house for our redemption

The boards are stiff where we kneel
The pristine white paint has begun to peel
The woodenhouse has gone back to its core
And we are back to that apple tree once more