David Byrne - Home

The ^Gdimming of the light makes the picture clearer It's just an old photograph There's nothing to ^Dhide When the ^D7world was just be^Gginning

I ^Gmemorized a face so it's not forgotten I hear the wind whistlin' Come back any^Dtime And we'll ^D7mix our lives to^Ggether^C/G

Heaven ^Cknows, what keeps mankind a^Glive^C/G Every ^Chand, goes searching for its ^Gpartner In ^Dcrime, under ^D7chairs and behind ^Gtables Con^Dnecting, to ^D7places we have ^Gknown

^GHome, where the wheels are turning Home, why I keep returning ^DHome, where my ^D7world is breaking in ^Gtwo^C/G

^GHome, with the neighbors fighting Home, always so exciting ^DHome, were my ^D7parents telling the ^Gtruth?^C/G

^CHome, such a funny feeling ^GHome, no-one ever speaking ^CHome, with our bodies touching ^GHome, and the cameras watching ^DHome, will in^D7fect what ever you ^Gdo^C/G Where ^Dhome, comes to ^D7life from out of the ^Gblue

^GTiny little boats on a beach at sunset I took a drink from a jar And into my ^Dhead Familiar ^D7smells and ^Gflavors^C/G

Ve^Ghicles are stuck on the plains of heaven I see their wheels spinning round And every^Dwhere I can ^D7hear those people ^Gsaying^C/G

That the ^Ceye, is the measure of the ^Gman ^C/G You can ^Cfly, from the stuff that still sur^Grounds you Where ^Dhome, and the ^D7band keeps marchin' ^Gon Con^Dnecting, to ^D7every living ^Gsoul Com^Dpassion, for ^D7things I'll never ^Gknow