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| | Em | D | C |
| | I watch the | plane fly a | way, from the place it left me |
| | Em | D | C |
| | with a c | oldness in my | heart. |
| | Em | D | C |
| | This old pl | ace dont look fa | milar to me now, |
| | Em | D | C |
| but | I suppose it's g | ood to be | home. |
| | Em | D | C |
| | All my am | bitions and my | dreams left on that jetplane, |
| | Em | D | C/G |
| | back to the p | lace that I be | long. |
| | G | D | C | G |
| Sweet Massa | chusettes, | I want to | see it | again |
| | D | C | G |
| | I want to | be there | again. |
| | D | C |
| but it's | hard when you're banished three | thousand |
| Dont get me wrong I love the country I come from |
| and my roots I'd never want to change. |
| But it was in the U-S of A that I finally found my way |
| a steady road I walked on. |
| All the bills I could not pay, so they sent me away, |