I can touch the walls of this sturdy house,
I can feel the sheets on my bed.
But I know, as well as anyone else,
my real home, I've yet to tread.
I can see with my eyes the paint on the wall,
I can breath the morning air.
But this is not my home, at all,
my home is way up there.
I have been born into this world of sin,
right now I can see nothing more.
This glory, I will have to win,
to live better than before.
Only in a dream is a home like this,
where streets are solid gold.
The Kingdom of God is filled with Bliss,
a whole family there, I'm told.
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