I can't fully explain this.

Imagine someone capturing the things you held closest to your heart and putting them on a page.
What if they caught every dream and every feeling that you thought was stuck in the land of memories?
"It's as if they know everything about me."
"It's as if they were right there with me."

They do.
They were.

Imagine they used pictures and colors for every thought, every prayer, every conviction and just taped them to the page of an old worn out book.
So now you can see it and feel it.
I can see the truths I fight for on the page.
The moments I'll never forget.

This is my old worn out book of dreams.
It was given to me.
Well, it's really ours, but I'll hold on to it for a while.

This probably sounds confusing but here's the thing...
I don't know what this book was supposed to be about.
I just know what it ended up saying to me.
And I needed the new words.

The cover is all we both will ever know.
Only I'll know the insides. The heart. The depths. The guts.
Some of the pages were ripped out.
And some of the words were changed.
They were changed to remind me of things I will never forget.

I just know the title is right.
A vagabond is a drifter.
I am a vagabond...with a home.