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