Goodbye to my childhood dreams
Goodbye to the rusted green of Sather Gate
Where I dreamed that I would play
Underneath the stony grey
Of that arch

Goodbye to the pounding drums
Goodbye to every bum
That I once thought I could save one by one
But now I’ve given up
I guess that I was just too young

Goodbye to my new best friends
Goodbye to Jack and Ben
I know it was our dream to live so close
But now I’ve got to go
And chase after what I need most

Goodbye to science and math
Goodbye to Telegraph
Where I bought the shirt that I have worn
With every girl I’ve ever loved
Since late into that early summer morn

Maybe this was not my place
Maybe this was not my fate
But, either way,
Come may
I’ll give this place a final wave

Goodbye to the derelicts
Goodbye to Dad’s footsteps
I just want you to be proud
But for crying out loud
I can’t build a house inside a cloud

Goodbye to the birthplace of all my sins
Goodbye to my cousin
I thought we could be a family
But it was too hard for me
To try even if I don’t know why

Goodbye to all the pain
Goodbye to the random rain
That so often caught me off guard
Sometimes I’d step off the bart
And get soaked to the heart

Goodbye to everyone
Goodbye to those who helped me out when I was down
Who made sure I didn’t just drink to my despair
Staring into space
Sitting in my lonely, lonely desk chair

Maybe this was not my place
Maybe this was not my fate
But, either way,
Come May
I’ll give this place a final wave

Goodbye to all the characters and settings that I can never call mine again:
The Campanile, Asian Ghetto, The Roof of Campbell, the portrait of Jimi Hendrix etched in stone
John Fizer, John Beltran, Happy Happy Happy Man, Rabbi Kay, Doug Minkler, and Dr. Jokemon
And the lady who went let you walk away, if you happen to say anything about the hats she makes

Maybe this was not my place
Maybe this was not my fate
But, either way,
Come May
I’ll give this place a final wave

Goodbye to everyone
Goodbye to all the bricks and stone
Goodbye to the only place the child in me thought that he could ever call home