Back Home

every fall i hear the call to go back home.
where i know all the back roads.
i take it all for granted
that i'll always be wanted back home.

the place and his face are showing their age.
i can't replace either of them.
the thought of either coming to an end distresses me,
but i know nothing and no one lasts forever.

i want to go back home.
where there are wide open spaces,
familiar friendly faces,
and a place to call my own.

i'm tired of seeing lights instead of stars.
the smell of gasoline,
the noice of traffic rumbling,
and people overflow everywhere i go.
all of this makes me miss the quiet back home.

back home the night is truly black,
the stars shine brightly,
and the crickets sing their songs loudly.
there's a peace and a calm that I only find back home.

sitting on a porch swing, drinking lemonade,
and watching the flowers grow seemed so mundane,
but now that i'm older,i find it quaint.
as every year goes by, i want to drive back home to stay.

i couldn't wait to leave.
the little town was suffocating me.
i thought bigger was better, but i was wrong.
nothing here makes me feel better,
but when i go home i feel settled.

my new goal is to go back home.
i want to be close to the earth
and mess around in the dirt.
i want to remember to enjoy every minute
before it is gone.
i'm going back home!