i was born in a little town
nobody ever heard of
found myself in canada
when i was just 6 six years old
guess you could say i’m an american soul
but my blood is scandinavian
and just as cold
the truth is
i don’t really feel like either one
most times i don’t feel like anyone
back home i learned to never show
what i really feel, what i know
canada was a good place to go
cause they taught me to say hello
i will always miss you toronto
but never again there can i go
the truth is
i burned some bridges behind
to build them back would take a lifetime
i came back to my home country
when i had just turned 14
but i guess i can’t really call it home
a stranger i am no matter where i go
so i packed my bag and left behind
everything that i could find
the truth is,
it’s easy to complain
when your life is like a hurricane
now it’s been so many years
that i’ve been stuck in this same old gear
it’s time to take this wooden thing
and write a song that nobody else can sing
except me and my lonely heart
for only i can play this part
the truth is
home is not where i lay my bed
it’s just a place somewhere in my head
somewhere in my head
somewhere in my head