[start] [Intro: Instrumental only] [Verse 1] No story that can make me whole— just my name, and a stubborn hope. I used to wear my life like satin, clean seams and a practiced smile. Then one small split ran through the days, and I kept it up—in style. I held my nerve at crowded entries, I played my part, I paid my dues. [Pre-Chorus] So I follow the ferry’s foamy trace, across water dark as ink. If I’m going to start again, let it be where my roots can drink. [Chorus] Call me the woman with dirt on her sleeves, call me the one who learned how to stand. Home isn’t passed along like keys— home is the thing you build yourself. Call me anew, call me true when the weather turns. Home isn’t where they said it would be— home is the place I make and earn. [Verse 2] I patch the roof where the wind gets in, set nails like steady prayers. I stack the peat by the old black stove, let the kettle warm the air. I raise the wall with honest stone, and let the years teach me to stay. [Pre-Chorus] If I’m going to start again, let it be where my roots can drink. [Chorus] Call me the woman with dirt on her sleeves, call me the one who learned how to stand. Home isn’t passed along like keys— home is the thing you build yourself. Call me anew, call me true when the weather turns. Home isn’t where they said it would be— home is the place I make and earn. [Bridge] I used to think love was a label, pinned on for company. Now I know it’s work in my own days, and the rest I give to me. If my past comes knocking again, it can wait out in the rain— I won’t trade this hard-won freedom for a prettier kind of pain. [Final Chorus] Call me the woman with dirt on her sleeves, call me the one who learned how to stand. Home isn’t passed along like keys— home is the thing I build myself. Call me anew, call me true when the weather turns. Home isn’t where they said it would be— home is the place I make and earn. [Outro] [Instrumental only] [end]
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