Going Home - George Younce
Many times in my childhood
When we've traveled so far
By nightfall how weary I'd grown
Fathers arms would slip around me
And gently he'd say
My son were going home
Going home
I'm going home
There is nothing to hold me here
I've caught a glimpse of
That heavenly land
Praise god I'm going home
Now the twilight is fading
And the day soon shall end
I get homesick
The farther I roam
But my father has led me
Each step of the way
And now I'm going home
Going home
I'm going home
There is nothing to hold me here
For I've caught a glimpse of
That heavenly land
Praise god I'm going home
Oh oh oh
