Home is the place where we belong
It is the love in the paneling- it builds us up, makes us strong;
to believe in who we are,
to know that there is place for going back when we've gone too far.
As for me, Home is where I wander.
There is no paneling, nothing here I own.
Love is my home, because I have no other.
I invest in people and not in things,
Because all that is concrete has failed.
Here I dwell here I will sing.
Though there is no solid place for me to rest
I am at peace; I am who I am, belonging to nothing and nothing belonging to me;
Nothing left to possess.
For so long we all will hold on.
But I’ve already let go. It is I who has returned and it is simply possessions that have gone.
If it is the truth you want, here it is.
Home is the air you breathe, the beat of your heart, every moment passing; the laughter and the sun
And if this is the one thing you learn of home, as your adventure begins;
I hope you see it isn’t the paneling you’ll miss.