Becoming My Own Home

It's fire season again

And the ash in the air has my eyes stinging

And I can hear the winter slowly awakening

The mountains are my only goal

So I can shed my skin, and be made whole

And the crisp air and the red clay will be my salvation

Well, your absence sets in with the early frost

And the things that I've loved are the things I have lost

The wheat from the chaff, the sheep from the goats

This year I am becoming my own home

This year I am becoming my home

The birds are already leaving

I guess you got swept in their migration

And now every nest I come across looks abandoned

Pacing every inch of this room

Looking for one spot without memories of you

But the blisters turn to callus if I'll just keep walking

Your absence sets in with the burning trees

And the things that I love are the things that I bleed

The wine from the water, the flesh from the bone

This year I am becoming my own home

This year I am becoming my home

Well I found my way out of this chain-link language

To let my words going without eyeing the finish

The floorboards cracked and rotted till they all fell down

But we couldn't keep our eyes off the ground

With the heat on high, and the windows open

This winding road is the path we've chosen

And the sunrise and the sunset are keeping time

But the only eyes that see them are mine

This year I am becoming my own home

This year I am becoming my own