Notes: I'm not in love with the marketing business, and yet it's very much my business. I guess it's kind of reckless to post something like that on the internet where my employer can find it, but it's true and I like to write true things in this space. Last week was a rough landing after a much needed vacation. I didn't spend much of my summer in New York City, but I'm here now, and I don't have a firm grasp on my upcoming itinerary for frolicking in nature. It's making me feel outside of myself, which exacerbates the sense of not belonging that pervades my professional experience. This is a song about that feeling of not belonging, and the nagging desire to head back for the hills even though I was just there.
lyrics
Point my face to the breeze
Smell the rain on the air
Lord it's not really me
Saying I don't really care
Hold my calls for a month
Sign my name for a year
It takes a moment of truth
To feel that I'm really here
I want my hands in the dirt
I want the sun on my skin
I want the people I meet
To know the place that they're in
Hold my calls for a month
Sign my name for a year
It takes a moment of truth
To feel that I'm really here
Will I know I've had enough
Or slip until I pick me up?