Homeward the new road meanders
Washed out the old road as to what did I bring
Flowers, a verse about springtime
Perchance in the treeline she's awaiting for me
Homeward these shoes worn to paper
Thin as the reason I left here so young
Homeward and what if I see her
There in the doorway I walked away from
White house asleep on the hillside
Firm as a habit I struggled to shed
Homeward with heaven above me
Old road behind me, a door up ahead
Printer Friendly Version
