They say home is where the heart is
I believe my home is where he is
So, why is it that when the bags are packed
The passports ready and the currency converted
I sit on our bed and stare at the four walls
Instead of excitement I am filled with anxiety
It\'s not the flight, no
Soaring through the sky holds no fear for me
What I seem to fear is leaving
Closing the door behind me
Is it right to feel homesick when you are still secure within your home?
People suffer from last day blues and once home, holiday blues
Me... First day blues and relief waiting for me at the departure gates to come home
I don\'t unpack my case, you see
No matter abroad or within my homeland
I don\'t feel as I should when presented with the travel plans
My heart can surely be found in our home
Along with my nerves and my sanity it seems
But onwards I will go
Tomorrow, I will close my front door
He will take my hand in his own
For the world, it seems, is waiting for me.