For twenty years I lived at home
it was quite sensory;
Grew up, moved out, and went to roam
but missed the memory.
One day my Dad died / and of course I cried
and then I decided to buy it;
Nostalgia had lied / me it did misguide
but of course I had to try it.
I found it quite strange / to see all the change
from my long lost childhood
I could not arrange / I could not exchange
what was left just wasn’t good.
Despite my new claim / ‘twas only in name
a house is not a genome;
It just wasn’t the same / and with no one to blame
I learned: You can never go home.