On the last sunny day of September
I fueled up the car, westward bound.
I gave up my old home in Decatur
dreams buried in the battleground
It was way past the time to be sorry
No it was time to move along
by the light and dust of a hundred towns
To the sunset from the dawn I’ll drive on
I’m one hundred towns away from you
Mile markers, signs and highway lines fly by.
I’m one hundred dusty towns away from you
Going home. Going home
Home
Going home means the end of the dusty trail.
Home is where your smiling eyes are found
Home is where you unpack all your hopeful dreams.
And brush off the dust of 100 towns.
I’m one hundred towns away from you
Mile markers, signs and highway lines fly by.
I’m one hundred dusty towns away from you
Going home. Going home
Going home. Going home
Home
Copyright 2020 Lynette Hensley