They say that home is where the heart is I guess I haven't found my home And we keep driving round in circles Afraid to call this place our own
They say there's linings made of silver Folded inside each raining cloud Well, we need someone to deliver
They say you're really not somebody Until somebody else loves you Well, I am waiting to make somebody
Where you will lie on the rug While I play with the dog 'Cause this is too much for me to hold This is too much for me to hold
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