You said there's ice on the runway,
Ice on the wings,
There's ice everywhere,
And nothing can bring you
Home to me, home to me, home to me.
I don't want to talk. It's too cold to walk.
I keep looking for you
All I find is frost.
Come home to me, home to me,
Home to me, please, come home.
I'm tired of the moon,
And keeping my own company,
Tired of the dark and her night
Full of brittle stars.
You wander like a weed.
I wonder what you see.
I wonder what you're thinking
And if you'll ever be
Coming home to me.

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): AMANDA ROSE SHIRES