we wear our bruises and cuts like souvenirs, battlescars the road bestows in turn will teach us how to leave a mark. and it’s not to say we’ve been there. and it’s not to say we’ve done that. it’s ‘cause every city’s lights burn brighter that first time. from endless highways to endless nights unbelievable lows, such endless heights. dog sick and dog tired, i can’t say i’ve felt this alive in so long. so if my home is where i hang my heart, if home’s to be with the people that i love, i’ll have a thousand homes in a thousand towns, all of which i adore. so i'm coming home and, in the end, i guess, there's no place like home, if home is where i hang my heart, i guess, there's no place like home.