I've got no wish, nor reason to leave.
I do believe I'm home.
Though I must admit I'm pleased, I'm realistic also.
Cuz if I can't ethically explain your place in me- then I'm not fit for your keeping.
Through this cold and concrete canopy
Above the street-sweepers and creeps
I see the neighborhood you're leaving, the one you left for, and in-between.
And from my high-rise window seat
Near no sunset, nor mountain peaks, I've got just the view I need.
I feel like finding a love to fall in, every time i get out.
I'm either in something I hate, or the other way around.
And I can always find some reason to think 'next time won't end the same'.
But there ain't been one like you yet Jane.
There's no thing similar to finding
What you'd lost, once you've stopped trying.
When you've damn near lost your mind, and kind of absently get by.
No thing but you could even try.
No weather, no chemical high
No honesty, or any lie.
And from my high-rise window seat, near no sunset, nor mountain peaks, no stormy sky, or twilit beach, I'm of the mind, that in this, I'd prefer to be the Mr. Distant, now I've witnessed what you mean.
Though still i seem to see through green, and that envious, it ain't my seen.
I'm more a lovely kind of honey-lime-green and it's been a rather funny few weeks that I've seen.
I'm under pressure to be less than best behaved.
So come on over to my jungle, be my Jane, we can't run from that thunder anyway.
May as well just be underneath the same rain.