
On the way back home from Xmas
My Uber passes by a church
Where my childhood memories occurred
My dad was its part time pastor
I used to play behind his door
Exploring every inch of every hall
      All the guests are here to be communed
      I’m the one with memories as the stranger passing through, stranger passing through
I ask the driver to take a detour
It’s Sunday everyone inside
With jeans and t-shirt I enter with pride
      All the guests are here to be communed
      I’m the one with memories as the stranger passing through, stranger passing through
      In this familiar place
      I belong more than the rest
      It’s funny they think that I’m the guest
      All the guests are here to be communed
      I’m the one with memories as the stranger passing through
      All the guests are here to be communed
      I’m the one with memories as the stranger passing through, stranger passing through
I’m the stranger