Soft Hands · Album · Track 3
20 Aug 2026 · 3:36 · R&B & Soul · 192 plays
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Lyrics
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Same bus route. New numbers on it.
The shop that sold me sweets is a phone place now
and the phone place has been a phone place long enough
that the kids in it don't know it was ever anything else.
Everybody who stayed says "you look well"
in a tone I can't quite read
and I say the traffic wasn't bad,
which is what you say when you don't live somewhere.
And they're kind. They're so kind.
That's what makes it land —
Visitor here. (visitor here)
In the actual place I'm from.
They put the good chair out and I sat in it like a guest.
Nobody did this to me.
I did it by leaving, slowly, over years.
There's a version of me that never got on the train,
and he's alright, he's got a kid and a decent job,
and I have absolutely no right to feel sorry for him
and I do, and that says everything about me and nothing about him.
He asked what I was working on
and I made it small so it wouldn't sit between us,
and he noticed me making it small,
and that went unmentioned as well.
There's no argument to have.
That's the strange bit — there's nothing to fix —
And I'm welcome, which is worse —
welcome's what you are somewhere you used to just be.
I gave this up for something,
and the something's been good,
and this is what it cost.
Nobody warned me it was a trade.
I thought you got to keep the old one in a drawer
and take it out at holidays, intact.
It doesn't keep. Places don't keep.
They carry on without you, which is their right.
So I'll be a good one — stay the full two nights,
ask about people properly, learn the new street names.
It's not a lesser thing to be.
It's just not what I thought I'd be.
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