Home, Home, Home

I used to lay in the cold grass on a hot day, staring at the sky

I'd listen to the wind make music in the trees as I closed my eyes

I'd lay there and think and dream about all I wanted to be

One thing was for sure: I was never leaving Tennessee

The days felt long and hot, but little me didn't care

I'd run through the field across the street, wind blowing in my hair

Back then, it took a lot to make me feel alone

I had no reason to feel that way; after all, I was home.

I walked through Central Park, taking in the madness and energy

I closed my eyes, feeling a certain kind of serenity

I stood on Bow Bridge, thinking and dreaming of who I'd be

One thing was for sure: I was never leaving New York City

The days felt short and loud, but 23-year-old me didn't care

I stood on the subway platform, train wind blowing through my hair

Even in a place with 8 million people, I sometimes felt alone

But I knew without a doubt that this place was my home

Now I walk into the apartment and ask you about your day

I close my eyes as you hold me, feeling a certain type of way

We walk through the park, hand in hand, staring at the trees

We walk the streets and admire the architecture, noticing interesting things

We feel adventurous, so we walk and walk until we find somewhere to eat

That's our thing, our tradition, our spontaneity, just you and me

With you by my side, there's no reason to feel alone

I look into your eyes and realize you're my home