Sometimes my fits of wanderlust ensue
My pack is threadbare and worn through
When the need to venture out subdues
I'll always come back home to you
There is no plain and simple truth
We hold dear to the vanity of youth
And never get to pick and choose
What we win and what we lose
So yet again I'll strike anew
Cascade across the avenue
But when my outlook arrives askew
I'll head straight back home to you
Perhaps I'll whistle a different tune
Float away like a lost balloon
Find a moment that's opportune
To howl and bray at the moon
Even if my shadow is out of view
And my arrival seems past due
Remember that right on cue
You'll see me coming back home to you.
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