We built up this house on a hope and a dream

On the hustle and the muscle of man and machine

Slowly we rose from the smoke and the steam

Our faces were dirty but our hands were clean

 

Service on Sundays and work in the week

And holes in soles of the shoes on our feet

Birds in the bushes and fish in the creek

We'll bake lots of pies when them berries get sweet

 

And you're not beside me but I'm not alone

You know where to find me when you're on your own

I'll be your blanket when your covers are blown

And you don't have to ask you can always come home 

 

-You Can Always Come Home