I still miss you, home.
I still miss your warmth.
I wish, when I wake, I'd call out and you'd respond.
Yet many mornings, I've in vain,
To realize your sweet voice has long left this place.
I know you are happier, that you're fine now.
But perhaps I'm being selfish,
When I say, I'd rather be able to still
See you with my eyes.
I don't know how, but every time I fall asleep.
Your breath wakes me up, the last one I heard you breathe.
It makes me restless, and I don't know where, that calm I should seek
So now I look for you, in people I hardly know, in places that don't know me.
Wishing that perhaps a stranger will carry your scent with him, Perhaps someday, I'll be a little less homesick