每个人心中都有一个故乡，每个心中也住着衣锦还乡的渴望。只是，现实里不只有美好，还有很多不能承受其重的卑微和悲凉。在人群里呆久了，会发现，阳光之下，或多或少人们都在表演；阴影之中，不为人所见之处才是真实。有辛酸，有温暖也有丑陋。

回不去的村，进不了的城，剩下的就是Five Hundred Miles了。
Five Hundred Miles
If you miss the train I'm on

You will know that I have gone

You will hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,

a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles
Lord, I'm one, Lord, I'm two, Lord, I'm three

Lord, I'm four, Lord, I'm five hundred miles from my home

Five hundred miles, five hundred miles, five hundred miles

five hundred miles

Lord, I'm five hundred miles from my home
Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name

Lord, I can't go back home this a way

This away, this away, this away, this away

Lord I can't go back home this away
If you miss the train I'm on

You will know that I have gone

You will hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

A hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,

a hundred miles

You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles