The Winters In New York

How can I begin to say
The thoughts that are in my head?
When other shit gets in the way
And the words are never clear
How can I when I am just trying
To understand myself?

And every song just leaves you more alone
And when you're done will those songs lead you
Home?

The winters in New York are hell
With bitterness and cold
The west would really suit me well
At least as I recall
I remember all times
When California shines

And every song just leaves you more alone
And when you're done will those songs lead you
Home?
Right on home