''Cause I''m coming home,
I don''t know where I am but I don''t care,
''Cause I know where I''m going.
I''m going where the voices,
In my head tell me to
I''d walk a thousand crooked miles,
To try to get back to you

Chorus :
Well I''m weary to the bone,
As I wake here alone,
With a pain that won''t let me be
And there''s a stranger in the mirror,
Staring back at me,
( Oh Lord, could it be, is that me ? )

These hands are shaking in the shadows,
Of the old morning sun
That''s dripping through the window pane,
Lord, this feeling is second to none

Repeat Chorus

I can almost see your smile,
And I can almost hear your voice
Rising high up above,
The flat land of Illinois

Repeat Chorus