The Runner

Everytime I go to figure it out,
I can't help but fuck it up,
When I was a boy, and my da was my da
I learned when to run, and could run, so fast

I had to grow up, never look back
If you rap on my wall, I'd always tap back
But lost are those days, if I could get them back
I'd grab with my hands, one summer to have back

Over the stones that remind me of home

They can't hurt you, not if they can't catch you
Oh I wish that was true, I wish that were true
But I ran away, I'll do it again
Cuts on my leg, creak in my neck

Over the stones that remind me of home

I kept up some skills, maybe its there my mind is
Still just a kid, older, that child is
Still a song writer, Still starting fires
Still hyperbad, I guess still a fighter
Still going mad, I've lost and I've tired
Still sprint over sand, over snow, over briar

Over the stones, that remind me of home,
Go

Over the embers of bonfires, over the streets stained with spits of blood
Way in and far, past the way back
Over the rivers that once ran so fast
Over the kid-bones, the dead from my past
Over and over, the lies that last
Over and over
Forever,
- The Runner