Riding on the train out to new Orleans
A new experience for me
Met a man who had a few more years
Experience than me
Tell me son what ya running from
Are you trying to get free
Take it from me, these words they come
From my own biography
Running from your past
Gives you freedom that won't last
The person you'll become,
Will only hate where you came from
So turn around and make your way back home
Standing there at the ticket booth
One way trip back to my roots
You could sense my uncertainty
I was shuffling in my boots
"Lucky you" the agent says to me
I haven't been back home in years
There's some people I don't wanna see
I don't wanna face my fears
Running from your past
Gives you freedom that won't last
The person you'll become,
Will only hate where you came from
If home is not a place,
You can find your way back to
Turn your eyes to Jesus
His arms will be home to you
So turn around and make your way back home
Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh
Standing on the porch of my childhood home
It feels different than before
The hate I had down in my heart
I don't feel it anymore
Tell me son my father said to me
Did you find what you were looking for
I squandered away all that you gave to me
I return to you broken and poor
Running from your past
Gives you freedom that won't last
The person you'll become,
Will only hate where you came from
So turn around and make your way back home