Home

The feet go where the heart leads them.
Here, where the streets and the bricks
and even the music play my tunes of freedom,
I find a home,
if only a part of it.
There, among the skyscrapers and
millions of familiar strangers,
where you are,
is always the other place where I belong.

So I'll raise my glass to our sweet years
and to home, wherever we are,
for distance, my friend, is just an illusion.
You and I are only a memory
away.