i walk down a dusty road, eight miles form mexico, thinking about my home. i've traveled here and there, think ive been everywhere, thinking about my home. no matter where i roam, it always feels like home, traveled near and traveled far, never knew just where you are, thinking about your home. the path for me, will soon end, thats where i'll find my friend, thinking about his home. some things that i have seen, a different part of the scenery, makes me think of home. the journeys hard as you may know,we cant give up, onward we'll go, thinking about our homes,. ive come so very far, still dont know where you are, but im still thinking about my homeĀ
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