Coming Home

I wonder where my friend has gone
 I wonder where it all went wrong
 Was there something that I should have known?
 I looked for him in Amsterdam
 I cried for him in Birmingham
 Wondered if he's ever coming home
 Coming home, coming home
 Standing underneath the sky
 With nothing of my own
 I'm here picking flowers
 But all my seeds are left unsown
 Better off if he was coming home
 Better off if he was coming home
 Had a man, tall and fine
 I left him by an old road sign
 Told him I was off to Mexico
 With my feet on the track
 And your shadow on my back
 Wondered if I'm ever coming home
 Coming home, coming home
 Standing underneath the sky
 With nothing of my own
 I'm here picking flowers
 But all my seeds are left unsown
 Better off if he was coming home
 Better off if he was coming home
 ♪
 Coming home, coming home
 Standing underneath the sky
 With nothing of my own
 I'm here picking flowers
 But all my seeds are left unsown
 Better off if he was coming home
 Better off if he was coming home
 
 Better off if he was coming home
 Better off if he was coming home