| Song | My Way Back Home |
| Artist | Dawes |
| Album | Nothing Is Wrong |
| A ballerina in Phoenix | |
| The pines up north | |
| The sunrise from a highway | |
| That was not there before | |
| If I can place it all together | |
| Make out the nature of the call | |
| I start to feel the love and the silence | |
| That was always at the root of it all | |
| And in my constant quest for truth | |
| I am condemned to facts alone | |
| And though my dreams all lead me nowhere | |
| I won’t forget my way back home | |
| From the corner of a coffee shop | |
| Or from the center of a stage | |
| From the words used in a love note | |
| Or from an empty page | |
| While I struggle with these beauties | |
| And my renditions end up dry | |
| I’m like a bird that crashes into the window | |
| That was drawn to the reflection of the sky | |
| And the more I try to speak | |
| The more I lose that earthly tone | |
| And before heaven proves me hopeless | |
| I won’t forget my way back home | |
| Ooh Oooh Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh..... | |
| I admit that these answers that I seek | |
| Are all to questions I’ve never known | |
| But I pray to keep on looking for as long as I can roam | |
| And when the world finally fulfills me | |
| I will not forget my way back home |
| A ballerina in Phoenix | |
| The pines up north | |
| The sunrise from a highway | |
| That was not there before | |
| If I can place it all together | |
| Make out the nature of the call | |
| I start to feel the love and the silence | |
| That was always at the root of it all | |
| And in my constant quest for truth | |
| I am condemned to facts alone | |
| And though my dreams all lead me nowhere | |
| I won' t forget my way back home | |
| From the corner of a coffee shop | |
| Or from the center of a stage | |
| From the words used in a love note | |
| Or from an empty page | |
| While I struggle with these beauties | |
| And my renditions end up dry | |
| I' m like a bird that crashes into the window | |
| That was drawn to the reflection of the sky | |
| And the more I try to speak | |
| The more I lose that earthly tone | |
| And before heaven proves me hopeless | |
| I won' t forget my way back home | |
| Ooh Oooh Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh..... | |
| I admit that these answers that I seek | |
| Are all to questions I' ve never known | |
| But I pray to keep on looking for as long as I can roam | |
| And when the world finally fulfills me | |
| I will not forget my way back home |