Edit Your Hometown
La Dispute Lyrics

An outcry,
A passionate expression of distress and grief,

To lost dreams and sense of wonder
In lamentation for lost ambition and mystery,

To the streets that raised him. Say,
Directly addressing the roads and alleys of his upbringing with,

"Goodbye" to the hope for the home he'd been holding.
Saying farewell to the prospect of a future in his hometown.

Say, "Goodbye" and "Be gone" and "Be great."
Declaring the departure from home and pursuit of greatness.

To the friends who left when they still could,
Acknowledging those who departed before it was too late.

For the ones who chose to stay to waste away unplaced,
Referring to those without a sense of belonging, hoping for better.

Alone, and pray
Resigned to enduring solitude, and hoping for a better future.

To get out,
To make an escape from the oppressive surroundings.

To grow old,
The aspiration to see and experience the world.

To grow strong and
To develop inner power and overcome hardships.

Leave this city, so familiar all its places,
Departing from a city excessively well-known.

All these memories turn each day more to gray,
Each recollection becoming more and more bleak and colorless.

More they space out till it's once a year
The frequency of remembrance becoming more and more distant with time.

We'll catch up, maybe less, or
Reuniting with friends may be unlikely or infrequent.

Else just daydreams while he's working late
The memory of friends remains, often only visited in a daydream.

Thinks only of those friends and when they left.
Reflecting often on dear friends who have departed.

"Are we still friends at all, my friends?"
Questioning whether or not the friendship still exists.

Can I leave?
Questioning own ability to leave and move on from his hometown.

Rewind and find a younger man,
Reflecting on an earlier, more hopeful time.

All hopes and goals and dreams alight and
Full of optimism and potential.

Bright with friendship at the crossroads in the night.
Filled with meaningful relationships and a sense of direction.

"Now make a choice," the city said.
A demand to make a decision and set a path.

We were barely twenty then, but
This youthful time was full of promise but quickly passed.

While I swore it my allegiance
Despite the allure of leaving, he pledged to stay.

They chose leaving, all my friends. And
Realizing that all of his dear friends have left for good.

Now it's letters, maybe phone calls, that
Talking less, only staying in touch through distance communication.

Come less and less each year.
Less and less communication as time passes by.

All addressed with wives and children
Messages concern shared experiences with spouses and kids.

To the fool who chose to stay here.
Letters addressed to him, depicting him as foolish for not having left.

And it hurts me to know I'm alone now,
Pained from realizing he is now left to be by himself.

And it's worse when I know that I chose it.
Feeling even worse off for having stayed by his own accord.

Don't make the same mistake as me,
Chastising others for not following in his footsteps.

Don't make the same mistake.
Urging people to intentionally leave behind this town.

And now my friends have all left.
All his friends have moved away without looking back.

Or it's been me gone all along.
Maybe he was the one who has been taking flight all along without noticing.

I guess we all part one day and drop like leaves into The breeze.
Recognizing the inevitability of going separate ways like leaves scattered in the breeze.

And ain't it wild? Ain't it bitter?
An expression of disbelief and angst.

(Didn't it carry you from me?)
A question about whether he was not moving away because of his own fears?

But it's the coping with my fear that keeps me Here.
Confronting his own fears and staying put because of his resignation.

See, once it's gone you can't retrieve it
Once you've left, you can't go back to the way it was before.

(Do I regret you? Can I forget you?)
Questions the choices made, whether he regretted them or not.

I still believe I might get left here.
There is still a possibility that he might never escape.

I Might turn 63 still sweeping up the gutters
A hypothetical about being stuck with the same job in old age.

In the street or weeding concrete.
A metaphor for being stuck in place without any meaningful progress.

Wait and see.
A statement expressing resignation, with the future to unfold.

We'll wait and see.
A statement of his own waiting without holding any hope for anyone else.

Or, rather, I will. Only me.
An acknowledgement that he is the only one holding himself back, and he remains in place while others move ahead.