the voices of relatives long time gone
|
smiles and times we've spent i can't forget
|
laughs that etch their way into stone
|
after all these years
|
and all signs point right back to home
|
|
the air doesn't clear nearly fast enough around here
|
choked words and unfinished sentences
|
there's never been any subtle messages of home
|
trees and roads
|
and all roads point right back to home
|
|
you're eyes are shut
|
recalling what your mother said
|
legs can't walk
|
giving up
|
giving up is not one of the options
|
giving up is not in the plans
|
|
i know the trip is long on the body
|
so don't ask if we're there yet like a child
|
cause patience is a virtue
|
rain and snow
|
and all roads point right back to you
|
|
find the path of consistency
|
sink my teeth into it
|
soak my feet in the mud of my past
|
flesh and blood
|
and all roads point right back to home
|
|
-----------------
|
Home
|
Umphrey's McGee |