Sweep away the years, and clean out this old house. Shake out the rugs - shake all the old ghosts out. This is were my family lived out our doubts and fears - all our joy and all our sorrows - all of my first years.

I didn’t know you then, sure as hell don’t know you now. Do you think it would be easy for me to push the weight of these years away somehow. You say if we keep on running, then maybe we’ll find out just were we’re going.

But I’m a child of my father - and the people who came before him. I don’t call it fate, I call it history, and like everything it was bred in my bone before I drew one breath. I’m a child of my mother...

And I didn’t know you then...