Come again, through the old, old homestead
As the trees stand tall
The winds grow stronger out here
The farther you traverse

In the sky, there lives an old, old homestead
Made of logs chopped from oak
And roses strewn about the green tinted plants

In the sea, lives an old, old homestead
Made from coral and phosphorite
The fish gather inside
For their lovely serenade

Come again
Come again
Come again, through the old, old homestead
Come again
Come again
Come again, through the old

Whether it be on the ground, in the sky, or deep down in the blue sea
Come again
Oh, come again
Come again, to the old, old homestead





© Caleb Thatcher