There is snow here,
cold and white on the ground,
but no snow there,
how strange in a world so round.
It gets darker so much faster,
and people talk a little strange,
back there it's all the good things,
It's all so different, but so same.
And that place in the distance,
That one past the snow,
that land I grew up,
oh, that is my home.
Home is not where the heart is,
It's the memories and tears,
Home, is where the cold won't reach,
and all the time is moments, not years.
So even if here isn't there,
Home a place in a land long gone,
This is heart still beats,
And the memories sing strong.