Coming Home.

All these people trying to kill you, makes you tired

Reluctant to carry on or embrace the stars,

All these people so selfish, makes me want to retire

Worn down, with a body so heavy

 

But I know what to do; all I need to carry through

Is to pick up my feet, and run straight home to you

 

All these cigarettes, pulling air from my lungs

Trying to break these lies and monotonies,

All this stress, trying to get it done,

Anxious with a heart so ready

 

But I know what to do; all I need to carry through

Is to pick up my feet, and run straight home to you

 

Cause, I’m coming home, to the place that I belong,

Open arms and closing hearts to the feelings of completion

These feelings and burdens, carried too long on my shoulders

Those I love always willing to bare them awhile, please no I love you, and I thank you

Not for one other thing, except for being you.

 

And I’ll be coming home, to the place that I belong,

 I won’t be long, now

And I’ll be coming home, to the place that I belong,

I won’t be long, now