Dan Croll Home
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]
