From the recording Roughing It
Written in late fall. Recording is from the songwriting session; afterward I altered the lyric slightly. Inspired by the concept of citizenship in Philippians 3.20.
Lyrics
It ain't the flyin' part that gets me
It's not knowing where I am
And the feeling it don't matter anyhow
I'm crossing borders that I can't see
There's no lines upon the land
With wings there ain't a wall can keep me out
I've grown accustomed to the wait
I checked my baggage at the gate
These little words
Are the proof of who I am and where I belong
And the imprints
Of the places where my weary heart has roamed
I'm goin' home
So many nights I've fallen
Asleep with visions in my head
Regrets in every place I've left behind
But I can hear my family calling
Feel the warmth of my own bed
And the longing lingers heavy on my mind
I've grown accustomed to the weight
I checked my baggage at the gate
These little words
Are the proof of who I am and where I belong
And the imprints
Of the places where my weary heart has roamed
I'm goin' home
When I land, will they even let me in
Can my homeland be a place I've never been
These little words
Are the proof of who I am and where I belong
They're a passport
To the meadows and the hills I call my own
That I've never known
It ain't the flyin' part that gets me
It's not knowing where I am