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• Artiste: Dan Croll
• Titre: Home
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I've forgotten how it feels with the carpet under my seat It's the polyester fibers that wrap around my feet Feels like home, home When the cold shakes my bones it's the rug that warms my soul It's the textile to the skin, and the sensation alone feels like home, home So if you ever come 'round to my house take your shoes off at the door 'Cause it's impolite not to; you'll be damaging my floor 'Cause it's my home When you're down and you're alone it's the train that brings you home And your mother, brother, sister, father, waitin' at the door It's so sweet, sweet Makes me glad I'm only a stone's throw away Makes me sad that others can't have it the same way Oh, home, home In the forest it's unlikely that you'll find a home so tidy Compared to what it's like living like a city type Why, it's no home [Instrumental Ending]