When this young man comes rolling home The lamp posts move and in the road I sing and dance in falling rain It's good to be back home again The roads of air that map the globe Take me away to places new I'm lucky I can get around I'm taking off and touching down When I get home it's much the same The tax returns return again The news is on it isn't good I see the trees but not the wood
The road stretches out as far as I can see And I eat the lines ahead of me It's experience As the days unfold But there's nothing quite like The day I get home
When this young man comes rolling home The cheese on toast is in the grill Memories are filed away I come and go, it's fun that way The roads of air that map the globe Go east and west and north and south I like to look and see the sights I stay up late and hit the heights
When I return things haven't changed Neither have i, I like to think The world's an oyster on a plate I get around and get up late
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