Home - Amy Speace

Summertime on Old Bay Road

Innocence, no where to go

There were fireflies in mid July

Lighting up the northern skies

I’m with the love of my life, and I

I feel at home here

I used to watch you play from a stool on the bar

Watch where your fingers lay on that old guitar

Then I tried to sing to you a song I wrote

Anything that would move us closer to certainty

You left so easy that I found a home alone

Now I dig down deep enough to find the place I hide the tears

The photos and the tapes have lasted 10 years

Now you live downstairs, maybe across the street

With your wife and child and we sometimes meet

In the grocery line, the movie aisles

Paying parking fines, sometimes on line

On rainy nights in our different lives

We have our own homes

We have our own homes