When this young man comes rolling home
   The lamp posts move and in the road
   I sing and dance in falling rain
   It's good to be back home again
   The roads of air that map the globe
   Take me away to places new
   I'm lucky I can get around
   I'm taking off and touching down
   When I get home it’s much the same
   The tax returns return again
   The news is on it isn't good
   I see the trees but not the wood
  
   The road stretches out as far as I can see
   And I eat the lines ahead of me
   It's experience
   As the days unfold
   But there's nothing quite like
   The day I get home
  
   When this young man comes rolling home
   The cheese on toast is in the grill
   Memories are filed away
   I come and go, it's fun that way
   The roads of air that map the globe
   Go East and West and North and South
   I like to look and see the sights
   I stay up late and hit the heights
  
   When I return things haven't changed
   Neither have I, I like to think
   The world's an oyster on a plate
   I get around and get up late