I gotta get home there's a garden to tend There's fruit on the ground and the birds have all moved back into my attic Whistling static When the young learn to fly I will patch all the holes up again Well I can't believe that my lime tree is dead I

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

We're gonna have a house party Turn your TV off, break that boom-box out We'll wake up all the neighbours 'til the whole block hates us And the cops will show up and try to shut us down If you're gonna be a homebody If you wanna be a homebody You ain't

You say daddy come home I hope when I get there that it won't be too late We'll just have to wait I'm sending this letter I'll mail it today There's so many things I've been wanting to say Your mom sent some pictures And my how you've grown Rock n' roll

I have for you, oh no, oh no I'll just say, "Well, welcome home now" Could ever stop this love If I go million miles away I'll write a letter each and every day now Oh, honey, nothing, nothing, nothing Nothing is ever gonna change this love You can make

A little hometown or a big old city Might as well share, might as well smile Life goes on for a little bitty while Well, it's alright to be little bitty It's alright to be little bitty Have a little love on a little honeymoon You got a little dish and

You don't know what I'm feeling Into your own All 'cause you won't listen Listen, I am alone at a crossroads I'm not at home, in my own home And I've tried and tried To say what's on my mind Well, you should have known

And I don't even know if we'll make it through today Take another step, take another breath And I don't know if I'll make it home again Na na na na So send me home, I have lost my way We'll get lost on time that's stolen I fill my lungs with deepest

Don't blame me Hear my story and listen well; Truth is in all that I tell It could never have been me I did not shoot no deputy Mr Grant, the deputy, Friend to my whole family He always tell me when John Brown Was getting ready to come around

And I don't think on why I'm here where it hurts I'm just lucky to have the work But I thank God for the work When I get home from work Sunday morning I'm too tired to go to church I'll call up all my friends And we'll go bust up something beautiful