Walking Back
I was walking back
Trying to find something I lost running in the tall grass
Like a needle in a stack
A tourist trap
Somewhere far off the beaten path
Using a memory as a map back there

Ah, you could feel the heat
Of a thousand breaths
A thousand tiny cries rising up begging for mercy sweet
Though I’d been gentle in my step
To the bugs below, I was a giant
I meant certain death
The unplanned violence of a quest laid bare

Oh, you could see the steam
Just up ahead and it must have been
It must have been from something that’s boiling beneath
And you could march up to the spring
When the fog is thick, you take a dip, no-one will see a thing
Split the bill, you keep the change