By Carrie Underwood
Little boy, 6 years old
A little too used to bein' alone.
Another new mom and dad,another school,
Another house that'll never be home.
When people ask him how he likes this place...
He looks up and says, with a smile upon his face
"This is my temporary home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know
this is my Temporary Home.
" Young mom on her own.
She needs a little help, got nowhere to go.
She's lookin' for a job, lookin' for a way out,
Because a half-way house will never be a home.
At night she whispers to her baby girl,
"Someday we'll find our place here in this world."
"This is our temporary home.
It's not where we belong.
Windows and rooms that we're passin' through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where we're going.
I'm not afraid because I know
this is our Temporary Home."
Old man, hospital bed,
The room is filled with people he loves.
And he whispers don't cry for me,
I'll see you all someday. He looks up and says,
"I can see God's face."
"This is my temporary Home
It's not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I'm passin' through.
This was just a stop,on the way to where I'm going.
I'm not afraid because I know...
this was My temporary home."
This is our temporary home.
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