HomenIn my old bednWith the new sheetsnI suppose I could have knownnThat my new lifenWould bleed out onto these old streetsnWhere the trees hang to the groundnAnd there's never any soundnAfter ninenAnd my dad watches the newsnOn a couch that's worn and usednAnd he laughs at the wrong timesnOh, the wrong timesnnShe's letting gonIn a cold snownOn a windy daynAnd we line the streets belownAnd despite my coatnnI feel like I could blow awaynI am swallowing the airnThat only tastes this way out herenIn this townnAnd all that I can donIs just stay in her viewnSo she knows that I'm aroundnI'm aroundnnI get back homenAnd this new place has an old feelnOut on the porch I'm still alonenBut if I look, then they're realnAll around me they appearnComing on a night so clear, falling downnThey're the ghosts of me and younOpen up and let them throughn'Cause they'll always be around.nI'm around.