I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy, but I can't stop listening to the sound of two soft voices rendered in perfection, from the reels of this record that I have found. Everyday there's a boy in the mirror asking me: "What are you doing here?" Finding all of my previous motives growing increasingly unclear. I've travelled far and I've burned all the bridges- I believe as soon as I hit land- all the other options held before me, would wither in the light of my plan. So I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy, but there's only one thing on my mind- searching boxes underneath the counter, on a chance that on a tape I'd find: A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for. Homesick. Because I no longer know where home is.

~Kings of Convenience~