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I'd like to think I don't have roots yet, |
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Still some traveling in me. |
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Should have worn back packs through Europe, |
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Back when I turned 23. |
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There's still Ireland and the Orients and Temples, I'm sure. |
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Places you go, to learn who you are. |
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I've got to keep looking |
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And someday I'll be in the place where I feel most like me. |
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I could be cooking in Paris and needing nobody at all. |
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I could move back to my hometown, |
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Meet a good man and we'd fall in love. |
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We'd have family and birthdays and cars, |
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Never concerned about who we are. |
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A life that's so stable and nice, |
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could it be a place where I feel most like me? |
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I can't help wishing I could stay right here, |
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Not moving, not rushing, just breathing in air, |
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Not thinking, not worrying, just look to the sea, |
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The place where I feel most like me. |
