The moving has me triggered back to when I was so small
And was going to the foster homes everything I now recall
I remember how I packed my bags; and was taken so far away
Hitting the man who took me out and crying so much that day
I'm remembering bits and pieces; the images they are clear
I see so much comotion happening: some arguing I can hear
I remember trying to say good-bye but no one responding back
I couldn't understand it all but I clung tightly to my sack.
I thought it was for a little ride; didnt know it would be so long
I cried to think I was not home and wondered what I did wrong
Now I'm sitting here today caught up in moments from the past
Why is it that I keep going there how much longer will it last?