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The Journey Home

By Bruce Clifford

There's no time for brother John
He carries on into the night
There's no hope for sister Marie
She sits under a tree until the first daylight

Who else wants to be known as notorious
There's no glory in temperamental fame
Who else wants to go down in history
There's no meaning when you have to find someone else to blame
It can drive you insane

Who else wants to be know as notorious
There's no story to tell when the final chapter has been read
Who else wants to write the pages of industry
There's no truth in what you see as you lay down on your bed
It gets in your head

In a room full of sound and musical instruments
The TV and the radio play on into the sound
Take off you show off when you come in to town
Just 5 minutes more with them and I am sure I can turn them around
Turn them around
Turn them around

There's no time for father Tom
He lingers on with each passing flight
There are no dreams for mother Nadine
She sits in the armchair as she loses her sight

Who else wants to be known as notorious
There's no glory in temperamental fame
Who else wants to go down in history
There's no meaning when you have to find someone else to blame
It can drive you insane

Who else wants to be known as notorious
Tell me baby is this your only road
Who else wants to see the visions of destiny
It will stay with you until you grow tired and old
It's what I've been told

There's no time to hide brother park and drive
There's no time to waste sister who hesitates
Read my shrunken mind because it never seems to unwind
Clock me on my journey back home
Notorious is the only way I know

1/28/08 Bruce Clifford


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