Good to Be Home

I can see the traveller, walking on his own
 I can see the mother, with her newly grown
 Sitting by the fire so nearly
 Waiting all alone
 Watching for her traveller dearly
 Wishing for his return home
 I can see the people, in their emerald domes
 I can see a mountain, rising from a stone
 Towering like a bright-green steeple
 Always far away
 Beckoning the emerald people
 Climbing up that mountain, someday
 I told you something, I may not have shown
 I'm telling you now; I'm not going to roam
 It's good to be home
 I can see the no-man, wanting to be found
 I can see a lady, floating in her gown
 Peering through a soul-searching candle
 Footsteps on the way
 Listening for a fate-turning handle
 Now her traveller's home again to stay
 I told you something, I may not have shown
 I'm telling you now; I'm not going to roam
 It's good to be home
 It's good to be home