Michael Crippen ©2005
I had no home when I was young.
Both of my parents were vagabonds,
They spent their childhood under the Caribbean sun.
Mississippi redness in my veins
I’m waitin’ for Baton Rouge again
And I’m almost home.
Then I met my red haired dream.
A voice like silk and her eyes are green.
We spent our childhood under the Texas sun.
On a south-bound train from Joliet
I learned the blues and I won’t forget
And I’m almost home.
I had no home when I was young.
Both of my parents were vagabonds,
They spent their childhood under the Caribbean sun.
And all of my imaginary friends
Come back to visit now and then
And we’re almost home.
