Out of the lights and roar of cities I was miserable.
Forced to live in the country I grew to despise silence.
Crickets, freaking crickets, chirp, chirp, chirping.

Day after day I was alone in the country.
No one around to talk to, no one around to see.
Only crickets, freaking crickets, chirp, chirp, chirping.

Then at eighteen I was free and moved out.
To the city I went, to the thrum of civilization.
And there were no crickets, freaking crickets, chirp, chirp, chirping.

It was my first day there and I had gone out,
And I became a statistic, shot by accident in a driveby.
But there were no crickets, freaking crickets, chirp, chirp, chirping.

My parents distressed had me buried close to home.
And now as I lay beneath the ground all I hear are crickets, freaking crickets, chirp, chirp, chirping,
And I am home.