What we want to believe
Are like the smoke rings
We sit and watch someone do
Thinking somehow they are magical
When really, they are not.
There is a vagabond in me
A clumsy one
That stayed too long in one place
Now people expect me here
When the only thing in the world I want
Is to be gone.
There is a wild woman in me
That cares not about being tamed
That doesn’t want to be lied to anymore
Since discernment isn’t strong in me
I’d rather never take a chance
Then make a fool of myself again.
There is a child in me
That craves stability
Just one person
I know will never walk away from her.
Since I can never give her that
I try to be that
But, you know,
I’m a vagabond.