Street signs, black eyes, and other things I don't understand

Street signs, black eyes, let’s move to New Orleans.

I heard the parades are wonderful and the people, not as mean.

I hate where I am

I hate where I am

Where did you go?

Why can’t I follow you wherever you go?

I’m homesick.

I can’t stop the tears.

I’m homesick.

I can’t adapt, and so I rot.