I felt an ache, that I was needed back home / that I had loose ends, after I ran away last summer / so I got a fucking train from Brighton station / and I waited in St Pancras and I thought, with the opportunity to travel, why would I go back? / But I did and I sat on that train and I read On the Road and I thought yeah, I wish I was on the road / I wish I was in a car, in the American desert / I wish I could look up and see palm trees but instead, I am regressing and I am becoming fifteen again. / So I waited in a car park that I had so often been drunk in, and I stood in the rain and waited to be disappointed. / I saw my friends and their families and I felt disjointed / back in time / sitting on a park breathing in smoke and dew. / I saw some old friends that I used to run away with, and they were disappointed that i had run away alone / that my voice was different, that I had gone out on my own. / I saw my sister and her future, and I read old school books to revisit the spirited child that I once was / I listened to my grandad talk about how he would die, and that I shouldn’t expect him to live longer than 86 / He is 85. / I drove along roads I learned to drive on, in the backseat with the windows open / singing to the village. / I drank and I reminisced and I laughed and I missed the past I had / but the city, the towns feel smaller and I have outgrown them. / Every corner, every house, every pub delivered back to me memories that I had repressed so fully. / Everyone that told me I had changed sent me back to feeling small and like I am not capable of growing. / You can never go home again / I got the train from the village station and I said goodbye to my friend but I was glad to be heading back to the sea / I slept most of the way and I smiled at St Pancras, knowing it couldn’t be much longer / I breathed in the sea air, in a town where I have so much to discover yet. / I have made a home, and everybody can live without me, now.