Homeward, the new road meanders
Washed out the old road as to what did I bring
Flowers, a verse about springtime
Perchance in the treeline she's waiting for me
Homeward, these worn to paper
Thin as the reason I left here so young
Homeward, and what if I see her?
There in the doorway I walked away from
White house asleep on the hillside
Firm as a habit I struggled to shed
Homeward, with heaven above me
Old road behind me, a door up ahead

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