| Saw the ocean from a plane
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| New York City from a train
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| Fell asleep riding shotgun bound for New Mexico
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| You know I love the sand
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| But wherever I land
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| There’s nothing quite like coming home
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| They have lobsters in Maine
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| Vegas has the buffets
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| Down in Georgia, the peaches are sweet, I know
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| But sipping tea in my yard
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| Is the sweetest by far
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| There’s nothing quite like coming home
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| Grandma’s picture on the wall
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| Dad’s piano in the hall
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| The clock on the mantle broke a long time ago
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| There’s a feeling inside
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| No money can buy
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| There’s nothing quite like coming home
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| The old carpet’s worn thin
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| From the places we’d spin
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| While old blue eyes serenaded on the old stereo
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| There’s a world to explore
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| Far beyond my front door
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| But there’s nothing quite like coming home
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| I don’t know where I’m headed, but I know where I’m from
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| I could never forget it, it’s the place I belong
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| My initials on a tree
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| You can find the spare key
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| Hanging there by the back patio
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| However long I’ve been gone
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| There’s a light always on
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| There’s nothing quite like coming home
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| There’s nothing quite like coming home |