|
Is it the sky today |
|
The way that the wind's pushing the clouds? |
|
Or is it the late-day sun |
|
Stretching the shadows over the ground |
|
That brings on these memories |
|
Of people and places I've never seen |
|
And voices so strange and so sweet |
|
Asking me softly |
|
Where is my home? |
|
What makes this person me? |
|
Is it the little town where I was born? |
|
Or maybe it's history, the faces of family |
|
I've never known |
|
Somewhere across the sea |
|
Where my great-grandmother left long ago |
|
Under a cold, crying moon |
|
Looking for something |
|
Where is my home, home, home? |
|
Where is my home? |
|
Where is my home, home, home? |
|
Where is my home? |
|
Where is my home? |
|
The walls of a city |
|
Painted with promises |
|
And words so unkind |
|
Where is my home? |
|
The trees of a country |
|
Where autumn came suddenly |
|
That I'll never find... |
|
And then there's your face, my dear, |
|
And I know I'll never be walking alone |
|
The love in your eyes makes it clear |
|
Telling me softly |
|
This is my home. |
|
This is my home. |
|
This is my home, home, home |
|
This is my home. |
