The clothes are torn out on the line
There's a note pinned to my door
The Superdome is cold and dark
and the clouds are hanging lower
A bottle in a paper bag
Reminders of the scarred
and I'm homesick in my own backyard

I can smell the autumn leaves are burning
somewhere down the lane
and I can hear the sirens drowning out
the sound of children playing
but the wind has blown away my hat
and caught my pride off guard
and I'm homesick in my own backyard

It's too late, too late
to make up for old history
It's too late, too late
to fire up shot out stars
and there's no escaping
this damp dark aching inside of me
and I'm homesick in my own backyard

The windows and the welcome mat
they still look the same
and in the distance I can hear the ghost
of someone call my name
but when you stumble from your state of grace
the pavement's cold and hard
and I'm homesick in my own backyard

COLIN LINDEN -- SOCAN 1995
Colin Linden Publishing/Warner-Chappell Music Canada

John Whynot: Organ, Horn Arrangement
Stephen Donald: Trombone
Perry White: Alto Saxophone
Jody Golick: Tenor Saxophone
Chris Whiteley: Trumpet
CL: Guitar & Vocal

Artist's Note

"Homesick In My Own Backyard" is an autumn song. The Superdome isn't the one in New Orleans, but Skydome didn't sing so well.