Prodigal daughter

May 9, 2012

Just back from my home town, I’ve been thinking about how disconnected from it I’ve always been and so has M (who’s from the same city). I just never rooted there.

I’m happy with my habit–need, even– to always look around the next bend. “Most of my life I’ve been rambling free…” and I still am.

Still, I kind of wish I felt like this Waifs song’s first lines. Even though I don’t.

video
When I Die/The Waifs

When I die wont you bury me
In the town where I was born
Most of my life I’ve been rambling free
When I die I want to come back home

Ever since I was a baby child
I knew I was born to roam
I had to climb to the top of the hill
Just to see what lies beyond
Now seasons change and I am still the same
I dont belong to anyone
Still a piece of me will always be
Sitting in my hometown sun

In my time I have seen ten thousand setting suns
And I made my bed where I lay my head
And it never hurt anyone
It could be said that a girl like me
Ain’t nothing but a prodigal son
And just like that prodigal boy I’m gonna finish off where I’ve begun

When I die wont you bury me
In the town where I was born
Most of my life I’ve been rambling free
When I die I want to come back home

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

Follow Carol

Welcome!

Here you’ll find my blog, some of my essays, published writing, and my solo performances. There’s also a link to my Etsy shop for healing and grief tools offered through A Healing Spirit.

 

I love comments, so if something resonates with you in any way, don’t hesitate to leave a comment on my blog. Thank you for stopping by–oh, and why not subscribe so you don’t miss a single post?

Archives

Subscribe to my Blog

Receive notifications of my new blog posts directly to your email.