I left my soul in pieces around the world,
from the mountains of Alaska
in the deserts of Arizona,
in the misty mornings of Ireland.
I left my heart on the beach in California,
on the stops the memorial in D.C.,
on the train going south
without ever looking back.
I left my inner being in each corner of the world,
and I would never ask for it back,
why would I?
When I know that I was meant to be scattered
all over the map.