There is a place we all yearn to be
It’s not across some far-widened sea
Nor over hills or great mountainsides
And not where malice or anger hides.
It’s not under trees that reach for sky
Or where the eagles and buzzards fly
It’s just a place around the last bend
Of a lonesome road that seeks its end,
To that spot where most lives got their start
And have left behind their lonely heart !