Ain't My Home - Marc Scibilia

I’ve been to Paris, I’ve been to Rome

Seen a little bit of the world that’s known

But it seems no matter where I go

I know this world, it ain’t my home

I’ve got keys to a house that’s on loan

And keys to a car with rust and chrome

I’ve got keys to things I’ll never own

'Cause I know this world, it ain’t my home

And you take me so very close

But I can’t get rid of this thought that grows

No matter where I rest or roam

Know this world, it ain’t my home

Sometimes it seems a far off dream

Just in sight but out of reach

Don’t know where to go but I just keep goin'

'Cause I know this world, it ain’t my home

And you take me so very close

But I can’t cut out this thought that grows

No matter where I rest or roam

Know this world, it ain’t my home

Baby, I could try to fall in love again

Find a little house with a picket fence

But you know that I’m just a traveling man

To that distant country in that far off land

Oh, and when my time is used and done

I will see that final setting sun

I’ll leave everything I’ve ever known

And that house above will be my home