| Wandering, with no intention
|
| Gave me reason to stay and grow
|
| I will not decay
|
| Rotting from the inside out
|
| No sense of direction
|
| Weathered and hollow
|
| I will not decay, not decay
|
| I refuse to take things as they are
|
| The eyes of the world are much different from mine
|
| I will shift with the winds, and I’ll grow as my own
|
| Seasons change but I am a constant
|
| Take me home
|
| Everyday searching endlessly for my motive to be, and something to make me feel
|
| whole again
|
| The sweet embrace of home has withered away, and I am left standing in the cold.
|
| Take me home
|
| Take me home
|
| The sweet embrace of home has withered away
|
| Take me home
|
| And I’m left standing in the cold
|
| Take me home
|
| The working hands, and a broken man
|
| Amount to nothing, but a house on the sand
|
| So many wandering years, on my own two feet, the rugged terrain is rougher than
|
| it seems
|
| No sense of direction, and no sense of time
|
| Up in the sky, will you be my guide?
|
| Up in the sky, where can I confide?
|
| I swear to you, I won’t forget you in this life
|
| I am the only constant
|
| I am the only constant
|
| Wandering, with no intention
|
| Gave me reason to stay and grow
|
| I will not decay
|
| Rotting from the inside out
|
| No sense of direction
|
| Weathered and hollow
|
| I will not decay, not decay
|
| I am the only constant
|
| The sweet embrace of home has withered away
|
| I am the only constant
|
| I’m left standing in the cold
|
| I will shift with the winds, and I’ll grow as my own
|
| I will shift with the winds, and I’ll grow as my own
|
| I am home |