The gates to my heaven are no lofty place, No gold and gilt or silver shine, Just two hinges and some peeling paint, That’s where we live you and I.

And I'm so glad you made it, I'm so glad you made it into my kind of heaven,

This is my kind of heaven.
There’s tall pines on the hillside, They watch the weather blow,
and the people and their talking, and seasons come and go.
And I'm so glad you made it,
I'm so glad you made it into my kind of heaven,
This is my kind of heaven.
And in the summer flowers grow, Then they hide beneath the winter snow, But it's all love, just so you know.
This is my kind of heaven, No gold and gilt or silver shine,

I'm so glad you made it, I'm so glad you made it into my kind of heaven,
This is my kind of heaven.

It’s hard ignoring signs, The whispered words, the prying eyes, With your head held high, Believe in your ways, free your mind.
Go little rose among the thorns, With lights you're alive, and courage you’re borne, Away from the ties and levers that hold you down.
And in the darkest night, The crystalline northern lights, In their glow, carry you home, And in your heart you know, you'll never be alone.

Something in these four walls, That helps me to breathe, Draws me in, holds me close and, Gives me what I need.
Lifts me up when I'm down, Such a sweet and sunny sound, Lifts me up when I'm down, This is just like what we dreamed about.
Lifts me up when I'm down, Such a sweet and sunny sound, Brings me in, leads me home, Gives me space to rest my bones.
Something in these four walls, That helps me to breathe, Draws me in, holds me close and, Gives me what I need.