Wandering throughout my life, a turnpike every turn.
The cost of every choice, a price without return.
Feeling completely lost. A path that can not be found.
How long till we find our home?

We are wanderers.
Home is where our heart rests.
We are lonely nomads.
What becomes of the restless at heart?

They are torn apart, Torn in two. Hearts asunder.
We'll sing the sad song, sing the lonely tune, the loneliest of tunes.

Stumbling throughout the dark. Each sacrifice takes a toll.
A plot without a purpose, harder to control.
She is my daylight, my feet when I touch the ground.
How long till we find our home?

We are wanderers.
Home is where our heart rests.
We are lonely nomads.
What becomes of the restless at heart?

Torn apart. Torn in two.
Lonely hearts, lonely tune.
Torn apart. Torn in two.
(we all dance to the beat of our lonely heart)
Lonely hearts, lonely tune.
(we all dance to the beat of our broken heart)