Prone to Wander

There you are
20 something
High school's been gone a while
But part of you never could go

Friends are getting married
Buying houses, settling down
You've got your car,
And a part time job in this town

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

So see what you see
Live all your dreams
But part of it feels hollow
And you don't know what to do

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

I know what they say
You'll find your place someday
But right now it doesn't seem that way
And I know I can't convince you

So don't say to me
You're doing fine and have never been better
Your feet aren't prone to wander
And I've never been prone to believe you

I got off a long Skype call with a friend I haven't talked to in a long time. She had her kids around her and her life is well on the way to how a life should be. I guess it's in my genes and I'm ready to settle down and raise a family, but it's just not there. I wrote this from the perspective of someone outside looking in, maybe because I'm a little embarrassed that it's about me. "Please Speak Well of Me" by The Weepies inspired the flow and some little lyrical things.

Do I?

Everything has a place where it's meant to be, but it's hard to say when it comes to me
Season's turn, water churns, days fly by faster than the leaves falling from the trees

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

Feel my heart inside my chest, feel water on my face, feel refreshed
Faces never stay the same, but some things never change, much like today

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

Falling water from the sky lifts me up to new highs, I never smile in sunny weather
I never write a happy letter, I never lie, I can't decide

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?

When right and wrong is a tower made of glass, to be smashed, with its pieces on the floor
When my song is a weak attempt to say, I was wrong, and it never really mattered

Do I believe what I believe?
Do I trust what I see?
Do I believe anything?


I was listening to Season's Trees off of Rome by Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi, sung by Norah Jones when I started to write this. It's fairly vague and touches a few subjects. It was more driven by the music and the brooding sound than any particular thought at the time. Regardless, I don't mind how it turned out.