Home is where the suitcase is
A sentence I’ve often said
And I believed it too
But my travels, in the end
All led me to you
Home is not a place
That I’ve always known
It is not four walls of stone
I’ve been looking on and on
And in the darkness, you shone
What, or who is home then?
If it is not a place
I think I finally know
Home is where you feel safe
Where love is sown
Home is on a mountain top
With your hand in mine
And your kiss on my lips
Home is in front of a warm fire
As warm chocolate we sip
Home is in your warm embrace
Your arms wrapped tight
Home is indeed where the heart is
And mine, it lies with you every night