I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy
But I can't stop listening to the sound
Of two soft voices blended in perfection
From the reels of this record that I've found
Every day there's a boy in the mirror
Asking me “What are you doing here?”
Finding all my previous motives
Growing increasingly unclear
I've travelled far and I've burned all the bridges
I believed as soon as I hit land
All the other options held before me
Would wither in the light of my plan
So I'll lose some sales and my boss won't be happy
But there's only one thing on my mind
Searching boxes underneath the counter
On a chance that on a tape I'd find
A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for
Homesick - cause I no longer know where home is
where home is