Джоан Сазарленд - Homing | Текст песни

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• Джоан Сазарленд
• Homing

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All things come home at eventide,
Like birds weary of their roaming,
And I would hasten to thy side,
Homing.

Oh! Dearest, I have wandered far,
From day break to the twilight gloaming,
I come back with the evening star,
Homing.

Thou art my hunger and my need,
The goal and solace of my roaming,
Be thou my haven when I speed,
Homing.