On the hill where Custer was making his last stand
With the Indians all around and his gun in his hand
Such a wind was blowing that day through the battleground
I could feel it in my hair as I turned towards downtown

Weaving through the buildings, cutting though the streets
Slicing through the culture, piling on the weeks

Going home, I'm going home
Going home, I'm going home
Going home

Dropping in on you, my friend, is just like old times
Said the fool who signed the paper to assorted slimes
It's hard to get blood from a stone but for you I'll give it a try

To provide your accommodations and leave you satisfied

You'd think it was easy to give your life away
To not have to live up to the promises you made

Going home, I'm going home.
Going home, I'm going home.
Going home.

Elusively she cut the phone and moved from cell to cell
Really looking remarkable and obviously doing well
She made a turn on a wooden bridge into the battleground
With a thousand warriors on the ridge, she tried to turn her radio down

Battle drums were pounding all around her car
She saw her clothes were changing into sky and stars

Going home, I'm going home
Going home, I'm going home
Going home, I'm going home
Going home, I'm going home
Going home