Paul J Penton – Songwriter

No Place Like Home

There’s a hundred stories in this little town
waiting to be told
I’ll unwind the history
some of which I know
some which I’ve imagined

Chris got all the girls in school
I wonder what he’s doing now
last I heard he was brickie
didn’t move to the city
wonder if he’s been faithful
and what about David
I wonder if he made it
out there in the old wild west
he had a brain the size of the outback
was runnin’ a cattle station last I heard

My friend Steven
I found his grave
while I was looking for my Mum and Dads’
we used to have our dreams
of being guitar heroes
playing Fleetwood Mac and Kiss
I’m still trying
why didn’t he get the chance?
he had family and kids
everything I haven’t
why was he taken
why him?
I have to make it for him

Didn’t see him much after I left
he joined the army and went to Sydney
wound up driving trucks
and flying transports
two of his dreams
rolled into one
He was living the life
but he was taken
and I just kept on ‘making a living’
the Australian dream
the quarter acre block
is that what I want?

Lots of places up for sale
3 in the street where dad used to live
I see they’ve put up a new screen door
and new flowers at the front
the roses were getting choked
when we cleaned up after he died
now it’s looking respectable
that old front yard

wouldn’t really call it home then
just somewhere to come
to get away
from the noisy city
five minutes of peace
in a lifetime of noise
I only realised recently
when I came back to visit
and I didn’t see him
‘that something goes on
back in this little town

though I ‘m disconnected
and far away now
there’s something that makes my soul sigh
whenever I’m around
like a reset button
for whatever reason
I guess it’s home
guess it’s home

I’ve been a traveling vagabond
never wanting to put roots down
wanting no commitments
to act like a noose
around this crazy horse
I’m just a free running train
without a caboose
that’s me
I’m free
or so I tell my self
but is it there really a freedom
in running from yourself all those years
finding different ways
to not to face who you are

I’ve been running so long now
I’ve forgotten who my real friends are
but glad I’ve found a place called home again
glad I’ve found a place called home again

The shop that I grew up in
is now a pizza joint,
I might go in next time I’m in town
to see the familiar roof line
that used to be our lounge’
now it’s part of the eatery
the sit down part with a cup of tea
or a cold can straight from the fridge
on a hellish red hot day
it’s calling me
calling me
that place called home

Maybe I need to buy some property
to settle down…..finally
in the place which I been runnin’ from
all my life
the place I been cursin’
for bein’ so dead boring
I could admit that I’m wrong

Isn’t it strange
that the thing
that you hate
could become the thing you love
with a small realisation
that you don’t have to keep runnin
it’s been there all along
that place called home

I went to mum and dad’s grave
they’re peacefully at rest
they had to fight great battles
to keep the world at peace
I’m grateful for their sacrifice
for makin’ the world a better place
but somehow I got left behind
in their million mile an hour race
to get on with their business
somehow I got missed
I got missed
but I’ve learned to forgive
yeah
learned to forgive
no matter how it was back then
I guess
there’s no place like home