bastard son of clifton park return past & present mix cacophany of confused stirred images strangers became friends friends became strangers but; common ground, old templates fall into place dead recesses of the mind reawaken a love for a town i never knew i had the stranger-friends become familiar again things change, but the spirit remains pure the town you grow up in always seems to be the black hole in your soul but see it with old eyes; see it with new eyes; see it with grey eyes; a beauty never known. remove something you thought you hated and give it back, heaven. but im a stupid sentimental bastard.