You know I have to go back to the place I hate the most. Long ago it used to help me grow, Always kept me feeling safe from coast to coast. Lock the gates at night and don’t set my place, I won’t be back to see how the snow covers leaves. Counted down the hours until I found a shortcut home to you, But I’m just passing through, Barely a guest, a stranger in my own home. I'm back in Toronto, but just until tomorrow, That's when the bleeding stops again. Put off all the feelings, forget all the meanings, Just let it cycle through my head. We’re spinning again, the sinning is innocent, Until we realize that we're back in Toronto once again. You kicked and screamed until you met your defeat And slammed the door behind me, where you stood for weeks. I spent all night pretending I was alright, I justified, I planned, but I know deep inside I can’t withstand temptation by your hand. Back home, Liberty, cutting through the park I see everything has changed except for me. This place is called home but I’ve never been so scared To face the cold, breathe in the truth from the air. This place is called home, but from Kensington to Dee’s, Everything I pass it plants a seed. And it takes me back to a time when all I had Was a cloud over my head, weights on my feet. This place is called home but it’s not where I will stay, It’s all temporary, I know I’ll never move away, But I know this city will always feel strange, This city is a stranger to me.
Film by Wyatt Clough (www.wyattclough.com) and Roger Galvez (www.rogergalvez.com)