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I been to Paris, I been to Rome |
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Seen a little bit of the world that's known |
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But it seems no matter where I go |
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I know this world, it ain't my home |
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I got keys to a house that's on loan |
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I got keys to a car with rust and chrome |
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I got keys to things I'll never own |
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'Cause I know this world, it ain't my home |
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And you take me so very close |
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But I can't cut down this thought that grows |
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That no matter where I rest or roam |
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I know this world, it ain't my home |
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Sometimes it seems a far-off dream |
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Just inside, but out of reach |
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I don't know where to go, but I just keep going |
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'Cause I know this world, it ain't my home |
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And you take me so very close |
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But I can't cut down this thought that grows |
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That no matter where I rest or roam |
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I know this world, it ain't my home |
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Maybe I could try to fall in love again |
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Find a little house with a picket fence |
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But you know, you know that I, I'm a travellin' man |
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To a distant country in a far-off land. |
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And when my time is used and done |
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When I see that final settin' sun |
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I'll leave everything I've ever known |
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And that house above, it will be my home. |
