Home

I am a blind woman finding my way home

By the map of a tune

Where the song that is in me is a song

I hear from the world

It's not written down

I don't remember the words

But I know when I hear it

I'll have made it myself

I'll be home

I'll be home

Home, home

This morning a letter read to write

On the nine o'clock post

What if I'm one of historical revolution

Ah, who do I blame?

Priest, my father, myself

Tick the box provided

I'm burning my soapbox and I'm taking

The very next train

I'm a citizen of nowhere

With nothing to my name

I'm a citizen of nowhere

With nothing to my name

Wise women say

You must live in your own skin

I'm home

After a broken one

Re-tuned by the world

You can hear

I'm on my last journey

Though my lines are all wonky

The spell in my plan, it makes sense

Where is the song that is in me?

It's the song I hear from the world

I set my burdens down and sleep

The spot that I now lie on at last

Is the place that I call home

It's the place that I call home

Home, home