I miss the way, you make me feel.
When I was six years old I broke my leg,
I was running from my brother and his friends,
And tasted the sweet perfume of the mountain grass as I rolled down.
I was younger then,
take me back to when,
I found my heart and broke it here,
made friends and lost them through the years,
and I've not seen the roaring fields in so long,
I know I've grown,
I can't wait to go home.
I'm on my way,
driving at 90 down those country lanes,
singing to "Tiny Dancer",
and I miss the way,
you make me feel,
and it's real,
we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill.
Fifteen years old and smoking handrolled cigarettes,
running from the law through the backfields and getting drunk with my friends,
had my first kiss on a Friday night,
I don't reckon I did it right.
I was younger then,
take me back to when,
we found weekend jobs, when we got paid,
we'd buy cheap spirits and drink them straight,
me and my friends have not thrown up in so long,
oh, how we've grown,
but I can't wait to go home.
I'm on my way,
driving at 90 down those country lanes,
singing to "Tiny Dancer",
and I miss the way,
you make me feel,
and it's real,
we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,
over the castle on the hill,
Over the castle on the hill.
One friend left to sell clothes,
one works down by the coast,
one had two kids but lives alone,
one's brother overdosed,
one's already on his second wife,
one's just barely getting by,
but these people raised me,
and I can't wait to go home.
And I'm on my way,
I still remember these old country lanes,
when we did not know the answers,
and I miss the way,
you make me feel,
it's real,
we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,
over the castle on the hill,
over the castle on the hill.
