Capo 2 Dm Am Dm Am Dm there's a certain concentration of freedom between stations Am or what i consider freedom in these fenced-in glass walls. Dm what we learned from the movies when we were in our pre-teens Am turned out to be just the echo of an imprint of a call C and i meant to read two novels on my way out to the west Dm but i only read the essays with the note on the first page C and all i wanted to write about quickly left the scene Dm after finding a hole big enough in the air conditioning. C Dm C Dm oh...be my home. i forget when i'm on the road. Dm and i woke up every morning not knowing where i was Am and if the white outside was snow or salt or painted on the glass. Dm i feed off simple stories and your memories about wars Am and i was staring at the scenery not remembering what cities are for. C when i got out of the train at midnight in the middle of it all, Dm i felt the cold in my feet and the smoke in my lungs C and i ran up and down the platform measuring the train Dm like a weirdly lined-up village doomed to be always travelling. C A# Dm C A# Dm z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i'm on the road. Dm cut the darkness with a plastic fork, it will swallow us whole. Am there are no cars in the distance and no voices on the phone. Dm everybody's conquered the prairie just like ma & pa Am and i've had one too many conversations about america. C i remember the nothing shrinking down in size Dm and seeing not more than if i hadn't opened my eyes C and having dreams about tidal waves and all of us in tiny boats. Dm i remember sitting in a hotel room thinking my head was about to explode. C A# Dm C A# Dm z-e-p-h-y-r be my home. i forget my one true love when i'm on the road.