Miles of empty skies and ever winding streets
So incomplete and all alone
When I close my eyes I always see your face
I hear your voice I'm almost home
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Well, I've always been an in and out sorta fella
And my mind gets to roamin' I guess
But when I'm far away I can still see that day
And you in that little white dress

Remember that flat tire out on route 41
We had to thumb a ride in the rain
And when we went swimmin' naked in your old man's pond
Drunk and singin' Sweet Jane

Miles of empty skies and ever winding streets
So incomplete and all alone
When I close my eyes I always see your face
I hear your voice I'm almost home
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Those long bus station nights, always checking flights
Wrapped up in my sleeping bag beneath the city lights
Another rest stop, another toll
Another time zone, another bowl

Miles of empty skies and ever winding streets
So incomplete and all alone
When I close my eyes I always see your face
I hear your voice I'm almost home

Now, I'm far across the water, longin' to be warm
You're my shelter from danger, my anchor in the storm
But it's hard to set down some roots
When you always got mud on your boots
When you always got mud on your boots

Miles of empty skies and ever winding streets
So incomplete and all alone
When I close my eyes I always see your face
I hear your voice I'm almost home
I hear your voice I'm almost home
I hear your voice I'm almost home
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): GARY LOURIS