Home’s not made from brick or mortar.
It’s not some place I hang my coat.
It’s that feeling I get when you walk in the door,
That makes the words catch in my throat.

It’s not some random town on forms,
Or where I spent warm summer nights,
It’s the sound of your quiet, peaceful snore
I can only hear when you’re by my side.

Home’s not some happy memory,
Fondly recalled from long ago.
For it’s nostalgia’s gift that lets me see
Home’s not a place to which I go.

It’s you - that calms my frantic mind,
Where I find that centered peace.
You’re the only place I know I’ll find,
The pressures of the world at last -
release.