Old Town
Old Town

Is there a chance that we have finally managed to find our way?
Is there a chance that we could be home when night-time turns into day?
The tired, weary, heartbroken and ragged, believing the moment is soon.
Wasn’t that a landmark we recognized ’neath the light of a brilliant moon?
Oh to be home! Oh to be home!
We’re tired, weary, heartbroken and ragged.
Oh, to be home!

Can we believe what our eyes have seen, when we thought we’ve seen this before?
Can we believe what our hearts now say, this is what we’ve been waiting for?
The exiled, lost, abandoned and wandering, for so long and so very far,
now raise there heads with eyes that shine ‘neath a field of a billion stars!
Oh to be home! Oh to be home!
Exiled, lost, abandoned and wandering.
Oh, to be home!

If we allow this hope to take root and in our hearts silently pray,
will it vanish like vapor or mist? Will it be taken away?
The lonely, abused, threadbare and shunned stand in the new morning light,
dis-believing eyes open wide in the passing dark of the night!
Oh to be home! Oh to be home!
Lonely, abused, threadbare and shunned.
Oh, to be home!




Author: eric@ericschuurman.com

Father, mechanical drafter, musician.