Oh, how the sun was hanging low
when I found I could wait no more.
I did my best to keep my head;
fell on the hallway floor instead.
Hazy thoughts and blind in sight,
I made my journey to the pier.
Isn't it funny how love warms
and chips away our greatest fears?
And somewhere far beyond the moment
lay a feeling I can't take -
it's like coming home.
It's like coming home again.
Oh, I wish you could have seen
the stupid grin that I wore then,
as I thought something that's been said -
that each beginning stems from death.
And no one else could ever dream
of all the things that I felt then.
I hope you're ready for the end,
as each beginning grows from death.
Somewhere, getting closer,
lay a step I oft retrace.
I was coming home.
I was coming home again.