I.D.S.T

Soaking bones in the pouring rain
Sodden fibers cling to every inch of your frame
Stand outside the old arcade
A cacophony of coins now seem sedate

I won't let anybody know
This is not the place where I belong
I won't let anybody know
This is not the place where I call home

We saw before you went away
If the frozen lake could take both of our weights
And when we slow danced on the pier
I'm thinking how the fuck did I end up back here
Rows of boarded up panes
Where the postal queues snake through like shipping lanes
This place has fifteen different names
But when summer's gone the outcome is the same

I won't let anybody know
This is not the place where I belong
I won't let anybody know
This is not the place where I call home