Well, I guess, this is how it ends
Now I'm still here,
but tomorrow I'll be gone.

Away from here,
away from everything I thought I needed,
everything I thought was part of me.

I'll miss this place,
without a doubt,
but just right now,
I'm glad to go.

I hate this all, I'm sick of it,
the smells, the noise, the people, too.

Is this my home? I don't yet know.
Home is where your heart is, but where is mine?
Here, away, or lost in time?
I'll look for it while I'm away,
so that nobody can say,
I didn't try,
I didn't care,
and so everybody knows,
I can do it on my own.
 
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