I started to believe
That I was born at seventeen
And all the stupid things
The letters and the broken verse
Stayed hidden at the bottom of the drawer
They'd always been
And now I plough through piles
Of bills, receipts and credit cards
And tickets and the daily news
And sometimes I just . . .
Wanna go back to my Home Town
Though I know it'll never be the same
Back to my Home Town
'cause it's been so long
And I'm wondering if it's still there
