There's a storm across the valley, clouds are rolling in, the afternoon is heavy on your shoulders. There's a truck out on the four lane, a mile or more away, the whining of his wheels just makes it colder.
He's an hour away from riding on your prayers up in the sky and ten days on the road are barely gone. There's a fire softly burning, supper's on the stove, but it's the light in your eyes that makes him warm.
Hey, it's good to be back home again. Sometimes this old farm feels like a long lost friend. Yes, and hey, it's good to be back home again.