Well, the show's all over
I'll just pack my guitar
Well, what am I doing here, girl?
Get up--c'mon make for your car
Head on back to where the air is clear
There's a young girl there
Who's part of my life
She says I'm her only
I call her my wife
I'm so glad to be back home again
Well, let me sit down slowly
Put my feet up somewhere
I let it all out of my head
Well a day-dreamin' guitar-pickin'
Nothin'-doin' pint of milk
Wakes up with the horrors
Of a hotel bed
But it's alright, there's a hand on my cheek
And it belongs to the girl
That makes my will power weak
I'm so glad to be back home again
Oh, get on home
Well, there's a young girl there
Who's part of my life
She says I'm her only
But I call her my wife
I'm so glad to be back home again
Ooh, ooh
Get on home, yeah
I'm so glad to be back home again
I don't want your money
But I just want your lovin'
Well, I'm so glad to be back home again
I don't want your money
But I just want your lovin'
I'm so glad to be back home again
I don't want your money
But I just want your lovin'
I'm so glad to be back home again
I don't want your money
But I just want your lovin'
I'm so glad I'm back home again
I don't want your money
But I just want your lovin'
Writer(s): Steve Marriott
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