| Home, when all of the world goes wrong it’s
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| Home, the pull on your heart is strong
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| For home, you know that’s where you belong
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| It’s h o m e, anywhere that you may be
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| Home will be calling you
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| Telling you you’re overdue
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| Where old friends say «how do you do»
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| You’re doing fine
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| But somewhere along the line
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| You feel the sun might used to shine
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| More brightly in your home town
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| So you grab up that battered case
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| And go, a smile on your weary face
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| You know that there is no better place
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| Than h o m e, home
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| Home, is the dance hall on a Saturday night
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| Home, where everybody starts out being polite
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| Home, until the mugs and the rockers had a fight
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| H o m e, that is where we wanna be
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| There eating fish and chips
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| Out of the racing tips
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| They gave us in last night’s news
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| Pass the salt!
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| When we would run around
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| In the London Underground
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| Hold tight, mind the door squeeze
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| There’s nothing quite the same as London Town
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| Especially when the rain is pouring down
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| Wear something warm
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| Besides the rain can’t drown
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| H o m e, home
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| Home will be calling you
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| Telling you you’re overdue
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| Where old friends say «how do you do»
|
| You’re doing fine
|
| But somewhere along the line
|
| You feel the sun might used to shine
|
| More brightly in your home town
|
| So you grab up that battered case
|
| And go, a smile on your weary face
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| Talking of home, yeah
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| It may be a palace or run down shack
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| Anywhere from Helsinki to Hackensack
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| As long as friends are waiting for you to come back
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| It’s just like the man said in the poem
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| 2 3 4, h o m e, Home
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| So you keep Lisbon
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| H o m e, home
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| No Paris is bonne
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| Keep Copenhagen
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| H o m e, home
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| We’ll say it again
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| H o m e, home
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| I don’t mean New York
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| H o m e, home
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| It’s too far to walk
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| H o m e, home |