Testo Homesick

when i sit down and try to rememberwhat my home is likei seem to be drifting in waterno land in sightall my friends become nothing but namesin my old adress bookoh yes, there was that funny little girlher love i tookwhere is the place i do belongthat little spot where i was bornwhere is the garden in my mindit turns to stonewhat do i know ?when i walk the streets of Londoni see a face i knowbut i knew it on a different bodya long time agoa back yard or a house on the cornerbring back a timewhere i could say without a doubtthat this place is mine