Somebody Else’s Bed I don’t mind sleeping in somebody else’s bed; I’m grateful for the company and the roof over my head. Funny how a place can start to feel like home, and tempt you into thinking you’re not alone. I don’t mind the rambling, living on the road; there’s always something new or at least somewhere else to go. Funny how sooner or later your thoughts turn to home; I guess that’s just the rhythm of the road. I don’t mind admitting that I’ll be soon to go; can’t say if ever I‘ll be back 'cause I don’t know. Funny how one moment can redefine your life: guess I’ll take one last look around tonight.