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Also available: Instrumental Mix
I went down to the parade The streets were closed and everybody huddled to the barriers Hoping for a better view, waiting for the floats to come through And leave a trail of confetti in their wake Oh, on a thousand roads We are coming home Yellow streamers on the ground And blue balloons are floating overhead like restless satellites Focused on the concrete, and straying down the side streets At the mercy of the temperamental breeze Oh, on a thousand roads We are coming home Old familiar roads We are coming home Every face was to the sky A small town on a summer day to waste away with no better plan Than to sit and watch a stray balloon, if only for an afternoon And then continue on their way, another day Oh, on a thousand roads We are coming home Old familiar roads We are coming home
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