And now the vision's died,
And you're left staring at the sky,
Brush your tears aside,
And watch the clouds go hurrying by,
Across a green hillside,
To where the frozen waters lie,
Pick up your fallen pride,
From the rock where you tried to hide,
And let's go home.
Come on home.
Home. Home
So brush those tears aside,
And wipe your sparkling eyes,
And watch the clouds go by,
To where the frozen waters lie,
And come on home,
Following home.
Home. Home.
Strange it seems, to one whose dreams
Range no further than wooden beams,
To hear such fireside tales,
Black and orange through smoke's trails.
So brush those tears aside,
And wipe your sparkling eyes,
Pick up your fallen pride,
And let your spirit glide,
And let your spirit glide home,
To the firesides of home,
The firesides of home,
The firesides of home,
The firesides of home.
So brush those tears aside,
And wipe your sparkling eyes,
Pick up your fallen pride,
And let your spirit glide...