If I Woke Up One Morning With My Memory Gone, I'd Pick Out Some Clothes And I'd Put Them On, And Walk Down The Street, And Find A Cafe, I'd Order A Guinness, And I'd Sit There All Day. Then Some Kids Would Come In And Start A Fuss About How Great Their Weekend In New Orleans Was Then I'd Look Down And Smile, Like Their Tale Was My Own, And I'd Open My Eyes, And I'd Know I Was Home, Where My Friends Are, Even When I'm Not. I Wish You Were Here. And Then It Would Rain, Like It Sometimes Does, If We Were Bored That Wouldn't Bother Us. We'd Just Get In The Car And Drive Though The Night, And Get Lost In East Texas, But No Oner Would Mind Because We'd Find Our Way Home, Like We Always Do. Funny How The Time Flies In Our Youth, But With Darkness Approaching, We'll All Grow Close In The Place We'll Call Heaven But For Now, We'll Just Call It Home Where My Friends Are, Even When I'm Not. I Wish You Were Here. I'll See You-- At Home.