A big blue house that's framed in white,
A desert that views the starry night,
That spot in the mountains out all alone,
Someone, somewhere calls it home.

A mansion of stone, high on a hill,
A small tin shack that won't stand still,
The apartment where tenants struggle for rent,
These places seem so very different.

But to each soul they're all the same,
That place that doesn't need a name.
You know that feeling when you're here,
Home doesn't care how it appears.

A villa that sits right next to the sea,
The small straw hut for your family,
The streets of the city with your shopping cart,
Home is where you find your heart.

I've searched for my heart everywhere,
I yearn to find my home out there
But every place just feels so wrong,
Maybe nowhere is where I belong.