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Home

by Andrew Delaney

/

lyrics

“Home”
by Andrew Delaney

I like that last part of the flight
When Dallas rushes into view
Yeah, like a million ants living a million ant lives
I guess it ain't far from the truth
But maybe now is not the time
For philosophizing, no
Maybe I'm just glad to be back home
I'm just glad to be back home

And the driver smells like cigarettes
And he ain't great with social cues
And he just can't believe this weather we're getting
And his friend plays the guitar, too
Kinda makes me miss New York a little
Where your business is your own
But still I'm glad to be back home
I'm glad to be back home

And we pull into the neighborhood
Where everything kinda feels like mine
And I wander down the driveway
And I lock the door behind
And breathe

I say hello out of habit
And let it hang there in the air
And I don't feel alone or nothing like it
There just ain't nobody here
And I hear a faucet dripping
Maybe I'll fix it or I won't
Maybe I'm just glad to be back home
I'm glad to be back home
I'm glad to be back home
I'm glad to be back home

credits

released November 19, 2020
Acoustic Guitar and Vocal - Andrew Delaney
Drums - Josh Blue
Literally Everything Else - Justin Farren

Produced by Andrew Delaney and Justin Farren
Mixed by Justin Farren
Song by Andrew Delaney

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all rights reserved

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Andrew Delaney Dallas, Texas

Postmodern anti-folk or something.

"The Alfred Hitchcock of singer / songwriters." Rich Warren - WFMT Radio, Chicago.

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