the sky is white like they forgot to paint it

cloud bridges lead to foreign lands for me

you're still trying to be American in Scotland

which seems easier than what i'm trying to do

i can see the distance in your eyes like they're a map grid

but i get too lost in the depths of my home town

and all i see is somewhere unchanged changing

a write-off car crash in a dry stone dyke

i wake up feeling shaky when i dream in foreign language

like by mistake i took your words instead of mine

and i can taste the distance in you like a river

i drift removed from all the things that shape my life

they say that home is anywhere you speak the language

then since i learned to speak i have been homeless in my mind