It's home here for the family, for Contra, for all the inside jokes.
It's home in Colorado for CleanPlace, for different inside jokes, for new family.
Home in Georgia for DioM, for even more inside jokes, for different family.
There's home so many places it hurts
so many times that nothing will ever change.
Consistently torn down the middle,
misery eating the glue that holds me together.
But no matter where I run,
no matter where I turn to,
the moon always shines above,
the stars always turn.
Life keeps rolling by
no matter who I'm with,
no matter who I miss,
no matter who I've become.
I can wander through the mountains,
hide atop the trees,
swim in the ocean,
and know the deepest in me.
Yet the road doesn't end,
the forks continue to pierce
someone's heart to bleed
and not always my own.
When will we all be together,
when will you see me and I see you,
when will we fly like eagles,
when will we find home?
