No Home To Run Too

Lyrics

[Intro - cinematic piano, distant strings, smooth stripped back vocal, intimate prayerful tone]
Lord, I’m tired, but I’m still here
Hands on the wheel, heart full of fear
If I don’t have a map, I have a prayer
If I don’t know the way, You meet me there

[Verse 1 - sparse piano, soft kick, spoken-sung delivery, vulnerable and honest]
Packed the kids in the dark, made the trunk my closet
Every bag was a promise, every mile a deposit
Left the job when my mind started slipping through the floor
Had to choose between survival and walking out the door
We moved, then moved, then moved like a storm with a name
Hotel lights in the window, same fear, different frame
I told my babies, “We’re okay,” with a voice I could fake
While I checked empty bank balances, praying for a break
No beautiful escape plan, no ribbon, no sign
Just a mother with a panic and a borrowed little time
Trying to breathe through the shaking, trying not to break down
Trying to build us a “someday” from a “right now” town

And I know what they say
“Just go home, you’ll be okay”
But some of us never had
A soft place to land that way
So I keep driving through the night
With my hands still trembling tight
Holding on to the only light
I can find

[Chorus - full drums, soaring hooks, powerful belt, anthemic and raw]
When life gets hard, don’t tell me to go home
Some of us were never given that road
Some of us got no porch light, no open door
No spare room waiting on the other side of the war
I’m not weak, I’m just worn thin
I’m not lost, I’m trying to begin
With my kids in the backseat, my faith hanging by a thread
I’m still here, still standing, still fighting for bread
And if “home” is a place where you’re finally safe
Then I’m still searching for mine today

[Verse 2 - moody percussion, low strings, conversational pop cadence, urgent and reflective]
Now I’m homeless, starting over with nothing but bones
A couple of bags, a worn-out phone, and a heart too old
For the weight I’ve been carrying, for the nights I’ve spent
Calculating if tomorrow means a roof or a tent
People talk about family like it’s always a net
Like a name on a mailbox means your soul is protected
But some of us got silence where the roots should grow
Some of us learned “don’t ask” before “welcome home”
No childhood bedroom with the posters still on
No familiar driveway where the headlights belong
No mother at the door saying, “Stay as long as you need”
Just a woman on her knees in the middle of the wreckage, pleading
For a place where my children can sleep without fear
For a corner of peace, for a future that’s near
And I hate that I have to be strong every day
When all I really want is somebody to say

“You can rest here”
“You can fall apart”
“You’re allowed to be human”
“You’ve made it this far”
But the truth is I’m learning
Some days prayers are all I’ve got
And I’m still believing
Even when it hurts a lot

When life gets hard, don’t tell me to go home
Some of us were never given that road
Some of us got no porch light, no open door
No spare room waiting on the other side of the war
I’m not weak, I’m just worn thin
I’m not lost, I’m trying to begin
With my kids in the backseat, my faith hanging by a thread
I’m still here, still standing, still fighting for bread
And if “home” is a place where you’re finally safe
Then I’m still searching for mine today

[Bridge - stripped-down piano and strings, intimate, tearful vocal, prayer lifted into a cry]
God, if You’re listening, I need You close
When I don’t know where to go the most
Be the roof when the rain won’t stop
Be the floor when the ground gives up
Be the hands that carry what I can’t hold
Be the peace in the panic, the warmth in the cold
If “home” is love with a door open wide
Then meet us here, and stay tonight