the voices of relatives long time gone smiles and times we ve spent i can t forget laughs that etch their way into stone after all these years and all signs point right back to home the air doesn t clear nearly fast enough around here choked words and unfinished sentences there s never been any subtle messages of home trees and roads and all roads point right back to home you re eyes are shut recalling what your mother said legs can t walk giving up giving up is not one of the options giving up is not in the plans i know the trip is long on the body so don t ask if we re there yet like a child cause patience is a virtue rain and snow and all roads point right back to you find the path of consistency sink my teeth into it soak my feet in the mud of my past flesh and blood and all roads point right back to home