I can tell we're going home A trampling familiar in tone. I can tell we're going across the sea, At night time we'll constantly be Thankful, rejoicing, exhausted but constantly Voicing an appreciation and high praise For all those we chanced on. But now we move along. Four countries East of where we are right now, We hatched a mighty plan and brought it back somehow. It's dusty, but prevailing, As I look out from the railing. With a handful of commitment, Optimism born on a shipment. Just as history dictates. And how tradition relates. But now we move along. Just as history dictates. And how tradition relates.