I have walked along these hills. I have wandered through this valley. I have felt these rushing winds, as I’ve sat beside this river in the night … many times. I have walked along these streets. I recall some of these people. But their faces now are old. And although I haven’t been here in a long, long time. I can’t erase these mem’ries from my mind.

I’m coming home. Back to see the place where I was born. Back to where my restless seeds were sown. Back to where I first felt all alone. I’m coming home. To places I’d forgotten for so long. Places that are there in every song I write. Now I’m coming home tonight.

I can picture his bright eyes. I can hear his boyish laughter. And I still recall the night, and the way my sister told me that he died. How I cried. We were never real close friends, but he was more than just my brother. He protected me with love, and although we had not hugged in such a long, long time. He could always make me smile.

I’m coming home. Back to see the streets where we had grown. Back to hold the balls that we had thrown. Back to say a prayer o’er his stone. I’m coming home. To face what I’ve avoided for so long. What I can’t express in any song I write. Now I’m coming home tonight.

There’s a thin uncertain line that divides up all my mem’ries. Some forever fixed in time. Although people always change throughout the years — all these years. I still hear my mother’s voice … although the stroke had left her speechless. I still see my father strong … though disease had made him limp for such a long, long time. I treasure all these mem’ries in my mind.

I’m coming home. Can’t help feeling chills inside my bones. Can’t forget the reasons why I’d gone — reasons why I had to stay away … for so long. I’m coming home. To share what I discovered when I roamed. A love I’ve tried to show in every song I write. Now I’m coming home tonight.

I’m coming home. Back to see the place where I was born. Back to where my restless seeds were sown. Back to where I first felt all alone — so all alone. I’m coming home. To people who I left so long ago. People who will live in every song I write. Now I’m coming home tonight.

© 2019 by Myron Schreck

Bonus Track — the original instrumental version