Outside my room
I can hear the wind
In it: useless or a shadow
I can see something in my window
It looks just like my ghost
But I think it's just the night
Staring back at me into loneliness
With the patience of the willow
Who's waiting for that searchin' wind
Waiting for a light
So why then, if this is true
Do I love the night and its hollow moon
And those southern birds leaving me behind
When they go back home I wanna go home
Fly home
Fly home
Fly home