The cute bomber jacket you've had since sixth form
Adorned with patches of places you've been
Is nothing on my khaki coat I got from a roadside
When I was sixteen
My boots are from airports, my backpack's from friends
I'm not a man of substance
Or so I'll pretend
To be a wanderer, wandering
Leaving ascetic belongings
Behind hostels and restaurant bins
The roads are my home as horizon's my target
If I keep on moving I'll never lose sight of it
Treating my memory of you like a fire
Let it burn out
Don't fight it
Try to move on
It's been sixty weeks since I saw Vienna
A bandage and a wide smile slapped across my face
I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready
And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead
The distance is futile
Come on don't be hasty
You'll get that feeling deep inside your bones
I'll be gone then
For when you
Must be
Alone

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