You ain’t the girl that you used to be You say you’re done, you’re moving on This ain’t the world that it used to be Looks like you’ve won, looks like you’ve won Sick of leaving messages on your cell But you never fuck with none of them Yeah you have somebody that really cares How you work it up, it is unfair
(Will edit this tomorrow, just needed to get it up)
Spring season in your hometown, where the fresh air smells like the ingredients of your childhood and the reborn grass doesn’t get much greener. You’ve missed the old place, having spent too long in your new life to revisit as often as you once swore you would. Seeing the sights again, you wish you would’ve prioritized your annual returns, noticing now how much has changed in the short three years you’ve been gone.
Your parents had let you know that they’d be moving from the house in which you grew up to one half of a more modern duplex, but the fact that you’d never get the chance to stay in your old bedroom again didn’t quite register until you drove past the street you all used to live on. While that stung your nostalgic heart, it hurt a little more to find that some of the quaint, rustic buildings that filled the inner city with close-community charm had been demolished to create a blank canvas for chain restaurants and other corporate projects. The small town that raised you is steadily losing what makes it so small, growing like you have while you’ve been away.