I was in the winter of my life
And the men I met along the road were my only summer
At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them
Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me
And my only real happy times

I was a singer
Not a very popular one
I once had dreams of [bad word] a beautiful poet
But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky
That I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken
But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what [bad word] freedom is

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing how I had been living, they asked me why, but there’s no use in talking to people who have a home
They have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people
For home to be wherever you lie your head

I was always an unusual girl
My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul
No [bad word] pointing me due north
No fixed personality
Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean
And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying

Because I was born to be the other woman
Who belonged to no one
Who belonged to everyone
Who had nothing
Who wanted everything
With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it
And pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me