Butterflies Flutter In The Bottom Of My Gut,
As My Soul Hungers For The Ripe Taste Of Home,
My Fingers Clutching Onto The Memories,
Of Shooting Stars Bouncing Of The Mesosphere,
Of A Mother Doe Feeding Her Young At Dawn,
Of Bees Feeding Off Of The Lilac's Rich Nectar,
Of The Sky So Blue Smiling At Me,
I Am So Close--Only A Few More Hours Until,
I Escape And Go Back To My Home,*
Home Sweet Home