Alright! Here is a one-shot I wrote about some of Dally's last thoughts and regrets of his home life.

I do Not own "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert or The Outsiders


I know they say you can't go home again
I just had to come back one last time

As I ran from the pay phone and store to the lot I thought about how I wish I hadn't left home like I had. But as the saying goes, you can't go home again.

Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine

Last time I went home there was a woman there, I guess my folks had packed up and moved once I left. I explained to her that she may not have heard about me from my old man, but the hand prints on the steps are mine from when I was five. Before I had so many worries in the world. So much unlike right now.

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar,

I remember that small back bedroom in the house, it was mine. Back in the days when I actually did my homework and payed attention in school that is. I also learned how to play the guitar, though I haven't told anyone that before. Only my parents ever knew that I learned.

Now I bet you didn't know under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard

In the back yard there was an oak tree, probably centuries old, and underneath we buried the one and only pet I ever had. A dog. She was part of the reason I went to jail in the first place, when she died I cracked and finally broke the law bad enough to end up in jail not juvenile hall.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing

I wish I couldn't gone back home, maybe I wouldn't feel so broken right now. Oh, shit. Who am I kidding? I doubt that anything could help me know.

Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave

At the farm out in the country, before we moved into New York I was always able to find out who I was. When we left, I think I started to lose who I am or was.

Won't take nothin but a memory
From the house that built me

The memories from that house have always left a smile on my face. So why the fuck can't it now?

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years
From Better Homes and Garden magazine

When I was old enough to understand things, my mama told me how for years she cut out pictures of houses and eventually convinced my old man to make the house in the country. She never wanted her family to live in the city. Funny how I ended up there anyway.

Plans were drawn and concrete poured
Nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mamas dream

They drew the plans and watched as the concrete was poured. Every step of the way my parents were there. My old man giving life to mama's dream.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing

I wish I couldn't gone back home, maybe I wouldn't feel so broken right now. Oh, shit. Who am I kidding? I doubt that anything could help me know.

Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave

At the farm out in the country, before we moved into New York I was always able to find out who I was. When we left, I think I started to lose who I am or was.

Won't take nothin but a memory
From the house that built me

The memories from that house have always left a smile on my face. So why the fuck can't it now?

You leave home you move on and you do the best you can
I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I left home, moved on to the gang here trying my best. But, fuck, I didn't know what I was doing! I got lost in this fucking world and turned hard. Maybe if I hadn't Johnnycakes would still be alive.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing

I wish I couldn't gone back home, maybe I wouldn't feel so broken right now. Oh, shit. Who am I kidding? I doubt that anything could help me know.

Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave

At the farm out in the country, before we moved into New York I was always able to find out who I was. When we left, I think I started to lose who I am or was.

Won't take nothin but a memory
From the house that built me

Oh well, too late now. In just a few minutes I will see Johnny again. I aint like the rest of the gang. They can get through this, I can't.