I walked down from the station
Cos I wanted to see
The kind of things that you might miss
From the back of a taxi
There’s just no way to tell you
What these things mean to me
This is home…
The place I threw my guts up
Outside the old wine bar
The junk shop on the corner
Where I bought my first guitar
The grass verge by the big flats
Where we sat and revv’ed our cars
This is home…
Home
Nothing ever changes
Home
And I wouldn’t want it to
Home
Everything’s the same as
I left it when I went away to make myself anew
The local team don’t really have
No local players now
The glory days are far away
But we’re getting by somehow
You’d think we’d won the Champions League
If you listened to the crowd
At home…
This place always gets to me
Like some old familiar song
Bringing back those memories
That I thought were long gone
I guess that you can move away
But you cannot escape where you’re from..
Home
Nothing ever changes
Home
And I wouldn’t want it to
Home
Everything’s the same as
I left it when I went away to make myself anew
The old familiar wallpaper
And a battered old settee
The china doll that Dad brought back
From the war in Germany
The faintest smell of creosote
And a cup of milky tea
This is home…