[Verse 1] There’s an old porch leaning by the road, With a thousand stories it still holds. The paint has cracked, the boards have worn, But it remembers every child born. We were young and we were hard, Carried our battles like playing cards. Words were spoken, doors were closed, Some wounds healed, some never showed. [Chorus] It wasn’t the walls, it wasn’t the stone, It wasn’t the place we called our own. It was the hands that pulled us through, The ones that stayed when the storm winds blew. A house can fall, a roof can bend, But love is what brings us home again. [Verse 2] I walked back down that old dirt lane, Carrying years of regret and blame. Found my name carved in the wooden frame, A little reminder I was still the same. We weren’t saints, we weren’t always right, We lost our way in the longest nights. But forgiveness came slow and true, Like morning light breaking through. [Chorus] It wasn’t the walls, it wasn’t the stone, It wasn’t the place we called our own. It was the hands that pulled us through, The ones that stayed when the storm winds blew. A house can fall, a roof can bend, But love is what brings us home again. [Bridge] So let the years take what they take, Let old memories rise and break. We carry the ones who came before, Their voices still live in every door. [Outro] That old house may someday disappear, But the love inside it stays right here. Because home was never wood or land— It was every heart that held my hand.
