I was just thinking that I have been missing you way too long

There's something inside this weary head

that wants us to love just instead

But I was just thinking, merely thinking

I've got loads of pictures,

I've got the one of you in that dancing dress

But man I feel silly in that dim light

Just after doing you by the sight of my Kodak delights,

I am sinking, merely sinking

I think about long distance rates instead of kissing you babe

I'm a singer without a song

If I wait for you longer

my affection is stronger

and I ... I was just thinking, merely thinking

that this boat is sinking

I'm tired of postcards, especially the ones with cute dogs and cupids

I'm tired of calling you and missing you and dreaming I slept with you

Don't get me wrong I still desperately love you

inside this weary head

I just want us to love just instead

But I was just thinking and thinking, merely thinking

I think about long distance rates instead of kissing you babe

and time is running me still

If I wait for you longer

my affection is stronger

I ... I was just thinking

I ... I was just thinking

that I'm tired of calling you once a week

thinking of long distance rates instead of kissing you

So baby I'm sinking,

merely sinking

Thank you.

Singing is sharing. When you sing, you have to know what you're talking about intimately, and you have to be willing to share this insight and give away a piece of yourself. I look for this intention to share in everything, and I ask: what are the intentions behind this architecture or this product or this restaurant or this meal? And if your intentions are to impress people or to get the big applause at the end, then you are taking, not giving.

And this is a song that's about -- it's the kind of song that everyone has their version of. This song is called "Home," and it's sort of a "This is where I'm from, nice to meet you all," kind of song.

Home is the sound of birds early in the morning

Home is a song I've always remembered

Home is the memory of my first day in school

Home is the books that I carry around

Home is an alley in a faraway town

Home is the places I’ve been and where I’d like to go

Home

I'm always gonna feel at home

No matter where I may roam

I'm always gonna find my way back home

No matter how far I’m gone

I’m always gonna feel this longing

No matter where I might stay

Home is a feather twirling in the air

Home is flowers in a windowsill

Home is all the things she said to me

Home is a photo I never threw away

Home is the smile on my face when I die

Home is the taste of an apple pie

I met a woman, she always lived in the same place

And she said home is where you’re born and raised

And I met a man, he sat looking out to the sea

And he said home is where you want to be

I met a girl in some downtown bar

And she said I'll have whatever he's having

And I asked her how come we never met before?

And she said all my life I’ve been trying

to get a place of my own

I’m always gonna feel at home

No matter where I may roam

Always gonna find my way back home

No matter how far I’m gone

I'm always gonna feel this longing

No matter where I might stay