| The dimming of the light makes the picture clearer |
| It’s just an old photograph, there’s nothing to hide |
| When the world was just beginning. |
| I memorized her face so it’s not forgotten |
| I hear the wind whistling «come back anytime» |
| And we’ll mix our lives together |
| Heaven knows, what keeps mankind alive |
| Every hand goes searching for its partner in crime |
| Under chairs and behind tables |
| Connecting to places we have known |
| I’m looking for a home, where the wheels are turning |
| Home, why I keep returning |
| Home, where my world is breaking in two |
| Home, with the neighbors fighting |
| Home, always so exciting |
| Home, were my parents telling the truth? |
| Home, such a funny feeling |
| Home, no one ever speaking |
| Home, with our bodies touching |
| Home, and the cameras watching |
| Home, will infect whatever you do |
| Where home, comes to life from out of the blue |
| Tiny little boats on a beach at sunset |
| I took a drink from a jar and into my head |
| Familiar smells and flavours |
| Vehicles are stuck on the plains of heaven |
| I’ve seen their wheels spinnin' round |
| And everywhere I can hear those people saying |
| That the eye is the measure of the man |
| You can fly from the stuff that still surrounds you |
| Where home and the band keeps marching on |
| Connecting to every living soul |
| Compassion for things I’ll never know. |