Many times in my childhood, we'd travel so far by nightfall, how weary I'd groan. Father's arms would slip around me and gently he'd say, my child, we're going home. Going home, oh I'm going home, there's nothing to hold me here. I've caught a glimpse of that heavenly land, praise God, I'm going home. Now the twilight is fading and day soon shall end, I get homesick the farther I roam. But my father has led me each step of the way and now I'm going home. Going home, oh I'm going home, there's nothing to hold me here. I've caught a glimpse of that heavenly land, praise God, I'm going home. Going home, oh I'm going home, there's nothing to hold me here. I've caught a glimpse of that heavenly land, praise God, I'm going home. Praise God, I'm going home.