Miles away I've flown. Far from the land that gave me birth.
Far away from the life I knew for 17 long years.
And as I sit by the window here in this strange new land, I can't help but think of home.
I can't help but go back to my birth place, to a place only I know the way I do.
And no one can see it through my eyes.
No one knows how I'm taken back to those special moments.
To those long walks with a group of idiots that made my life complete.
No one knows those special outings that we made and surprised the people we loved.
No one know how much I crave the taste of the land.
The delicacies of my hometown,
When I close my eyes, I'm taken back, standing in front of the road side vendors,
Cooking up the most delicious snacks for the crowds that never lost their appetites.
My home land is drawing me back to the aroma of hot spicy food,
My mouth can't help but water at just the thought of the taste of my home town.
You can't imagine how I flash back to the streets that led me home from wherever I wandered.
Every step I took, I felt secure, because there were familiar faces and known people.
everywhere I went, I knew I had to be back home soon.
I couldn't stay away too long.
I knew my way back home so well, I could walk blindfolded around my home town
and still find my way back.
I miss those calls, from below my building,
those friends who wouldn't give me to enjoy an entire afternoon nap
"Get your ass down here", they'd say, "you can sleep when you're dead!"
I miss them screaming my name out in variating tunes just to catch my attention
I go back to them showing up at my place and finding me still in my pajamas
But I never bothered, they have seen me in worse,
but today as I sit by my window, in this new land,
I wonder if this will ever grow to be as much of a home town as that was.
Will I ever call this place home?
This place with eyes that look at me as a stranger.
The unfamiliar street and the cold atmosphere sends shivers down my spine.
Will I ever grow to make this my home?
Or will home always be far away, distant from me.
Silenced by my own thoughts,
the most I can do when I feel alone is....
Close my eyes, smell that food, walk those streets,
hear those calls, listen to those voices and lastly
never feel alone.
I may have left home, but home hasn't left me.
Far away from the life I knew for 17 long years.
And as I sit by the window here in this strange new land, I can't help but think of home.
I can't help but go back to my birth place, to a place only I know the way I do.
And no one can see it through my eyes.
No one knows how I'm taken back to those special moments.
To those long walks with a group of idiots that made my life complete.
No one knows those special outings that we made and surprised the people we loved.
No one know how much I crave the taste of the land.
The delicacies of my hometown,
When I close my eyes, I'm taken back, standing in front of the road side vendors,
Cooking up the most delicious snacks for the crowds that never lost their appetites.
My home land is drawing me back to the aroma of hot spicy food,
My mouth can't help but water at just the thought of the taste of my home town.
You can't imagine how I flash back to the streets that led me home from wherever I wandered.
Every step I took, I felt secure, because there were familiar faces and known people.
everywhere I went, I knew I had to be back home soon.
I couldn't stay away too long.
I knew my way back home so well, I could walk blindfolded around my home town
and still find my way back.
I miss those calls, from below my building,
those friends who wouldn't give me to enjoy an entire afternoon nap
"Get your ass down here", they'd say, "you can sleep when you're dead!"
I miss them screaming my name out in variating tunes just to catch my attention
I go back to them showing up at my place and finding me still in my pajamas
But I never bothered, they have seen me in worse,
but today as I sit by my window, in this new land,
I wonder if this will ever grow to be as much of a home town as that was.
Will I ever call this place home?
This place with eyes that look at me as a stranger.
The unfamiliar street and the cold atmosphere sends shivers down my spine.
Will I ever grow to make this my home?
Or will home always be far away, distant from me.
Silenced by my own thoughts,
the most I can do when I feel alone is....
Close my eyes, smell that food, walk those streets,
hear those calls, listen to those voices and lastly
never feel alone.
I may have left home, but home hasn't left me.
