Home To You
Not a Basque with a bomb
Not a serial garrotter
Not a charismatic evangelist
Nor the ghost of Christmas past
Could keep me from your side
Could sway me from your ride
Or make me break my stride
As I'm walking home to you
No floods of tears
No burning wooden bridges
No twelve car pileups
On the motorway
No giant five meter waves
In the straight could make me late
Or make me hesitate
Or make me break a date
As I'm walking home to you
It's such a simple thing
One foot in front of the other
Sweet sweet progress
Towards your caress
Not a bask in the sun
Not a serious discussion
Not a Casablanca sunset
Not a Mona Lisa smile
Could keep me from your side
Could sway me from your ride
Or make me break my stride
Or doubt what's deep inside
As I'm walking home to you
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