I'd light a fire beside the skin and dig a hole for bones to lay
 Find a sacred resting place where the pecking hens wont harm the eyes.
 Home, home the air I breathe
 Home, home the air I breathe 

 It's not enough for me to wait for the open skies to fill with hymn
 its my kind to fill the air with broken empty hymn
 there’s a blade of grass
 there are the things I ain’t
 reminisce on my chest 
 bones of flesh I integrate

 Home, home the air I breathe
 Home, home the air I breathe 

 I'd light a fire beside the skin and dig a hole for bones to lay
 Find a sacred resting place where the pecking hens wont harm the eyes.

 Home, home the air I breathe
 Home, home the air I breathe 
 Home, home the air I breathe
 Home, home the air I breathe