The white picket fences and the grass cut just so

And all the white houses lined straight in a row

The downtown’s a postcard with picturesque stores

Perfect and pretty, and an incredible bore 

As a young child, I found it a drag

The cobblestone driveways and American flags

And all I could think was flying far far away 

Onwards to Greece or Italy or Spain

But as one sun rises another one sets 

And as I grew older, so did the threats

Of drawing the curtains and leaving this town

Past the predictable sights and the sounds 

Although I had craved it for so many years

Leaving became a logical a fear

So until the day comes where I must set sail

I’ll stay in my bubble, and under my veil.