Fields Turning Gold

I left town with a pocket full of dreams,

A rusted Ford and a head full of schemes,

Thought the city lights were calling my name,

Thought getting rich would make me somebody someday.

I traded dirt roads for downtown streets,

Traded porch swings for a nine-to-five seat,

But every night when the world went dark,

I could still hear that hometown heart.

I'm taking that old road home tonight,

Where the fields turn gold in the fading light,

Where my mother's porch still faces west,

Where my father's old truck learned how to rest.

I don't know

what I'll find when I get there,

But I know somebody's waiting somewhere,

Home ain't a house,

it's the memory that stays alive.

There's a river where we used to swim,

A broken dock leaning toward the wind,

And Mary by the county line,

Blue-jean jacket and a smile like summertime.

She said, "Boy, don't let this whole world run you,"

I laughed then, but now I know she knew.

Maybe home ain't where the road ends,

Maybe home is where you start again,

Maybe everything I thought I'd lost

Was worth every mile and every cost.

I'm taking that old road home tonight,

Underneath that wide American sky,

Windows down and the radio low,

Letting every mile tell me where to go.

I don't need gold,

I don't need fame,

Just a little peace and my old last name.

I went away, but now I know— The heart remembers the way

back home. (ooh-ooh-ooh)