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They say that heavens pretty,
and living here is too.
But if they said that I would have to choose between the two.
I'd go home,
going home,
where I belong.
And sometimes when I'm dreaming,
it comes as no surprise.
That if you look and see the homesick feeling in my eyes.
I'm going home,
going home,
where I belong.
While I'm here I'll serve him gladly,
and sing him all my songs.
I'm here,
but not for long.
And when I'm feeling lonely,
and when I'm feeling blue.
It's such a joy to know that I am only passing through.
I'm headed home,
going home,
where I belong.
And one day I'll be sleeping,
when death knocks on my door.
And I'll awake and find that I'm not homesick anymore.
I'll be home,
going home,
where I belong.
hummmm

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