This place in my memory
Never was as I see it;
The words I hear echoing
Were by Time paraphrased;
/
The nostalgia I feel
Half-dreaming up, half-remembering
My past is but myself
Trying to make peace with me;
/
There were things that I treasured,
A few people, who loved me,
There was a house to call home
And a county – my own;
/
I’ve been running for years
From the routine some call happiness;
This nostalgia I feel
Is the gap between myself and me