emerald city car packed full of things we
assumed we'd need, but we'd throw them away
after thinking twice

drove up from out of nowhere with faces like
ghosts, tried digging our toes into the ground to
spread our roots but the dirt was made from
centuries and we couldn't hold on

threw out everything we didn't need so we could
start clean

told stories of bright lights and flashy things but
nobody cared to listen anymore when they'd
never understand, so we kept quiet while they all

so we sold ourselves to the devil and
traded in our big lifestyle for a small place where
we didn't belong

home was back where i was born in that smog-filled
city where you'd die before you turned eighteen, but
i was looking forward to that day

couldn't wait to be free

kids tell lies to waste time while adults sit back and
laugh at things they don't understand and i get caught
in between telling lies and laughing at myself, sometimes

get caught between trying to leave and trying to stay

it's not this place, but it's not back home and
i'm scared that maybe i won't ever belong

maybe there's no place for me to dig my roots or
i'm supposed to be forever mobile like a nomad where
i travel, travel

it's just a matter of time before i ask myself that question that's
been burning in the back of my mind

how the hell do i get home?