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 homeI m going home.
Going homeI 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 accomodations
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 homeI m going home.
Going homeI m going home.
Going home.

Elusively she cut the phone
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 homeI m going home.
Going homeI m going home.
Going homeI m going home.
Going homeI m going home.
Going home.

- Back to the Songs of the Album Goin Home

- Back to the Neil Young's Albums