Weather man on the radio   threatens rain maybe snow   He just forecasts he don't know   I need blue skies   I've got to go   I'm not a cowboy, I've never been shot   I'm not a convict I've never been caught   Tell my sister   To tell my mother   I'm coming home   Home, alone   Sunday morning I boarded a plane   Leaving London England   In the pouring rain   Tell my sister   To tell my mother   I'm coming home   Home alone   Someday I'll be back again   To that green and pleasant land   Between the Channel and the sea   Across the ocean, that's where I want to be   But until the, tie me to the ground   I've got to let these weary bones rest   >From all that runnin' around   Tell my sister   To tell my mother   I'm coming home   Home alone