Lyrics

The strangest people come out after dark
With sunkin tired eyes the life they live is hard

Buildings falling by the hands of terriorist
Bombs exploding people in distress

Home with the strange, Home with the pain

Vagabond town junk cars in a row
Homeless shelters for the souls that no one know

Battered pushcart filled with empty dreams
Spilling with despair tears flow like a stream

Home on the range, Home with the strange
Home with the strange, Home with the pain

Young generation our future presidents
With lost ambition wonder where it went

"The end is coming" says the writing on the wall
No use in running there's no hope at all

Home on the range, Home with the strange
Home with the strange, Home with the pain.