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Ain't My Home

Marc Scibilia


I been to Paris, I been to Rome
Seen a little bit of the world that's known
But it seems no matter where I go
I know this world, it ain't my home

I got keys to a house that's on loan
I got keys to a car with rust and chrome
I got keys to things I'll never own
'Cause I know this world, it ain't my home

And you take me so very close
But I can't cut down this thought that grows
That no matter where I rest or roam
I know this world, it ain't my home

Sometimes it seems a far-off dream
Just inside, but out of reach
I don't know where to go, but I just keep going
'Cause I know this world, it ain't my home

And you take me so very close
But I can't cut down this thought that grows
That no matter where I rest or roam
I know this world, it ain't my home

Maybe I could try to fall in love again
Find a little house with a picket fence
But you know, you know that I, I'm a travellin' man
To a distant country in a far-off land.

And when my time is used and done
When I see that final settin' sun
I'll leave everything I've ever known
And that house above, it will be my home.

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