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de Marcus Mumford

I was young when I left home
And I been out a-ramblin' round
But I never wrote a letter to my home
To my home, Lord, Lord, to my home
And I never wrote a letter to my home

It was just the other day
I was bringing home my pay
When I met an old friend I used to know
Said your mother’s dead and gone
Baby sister’s all gone wrong
And your daddy needs you home right away
Not a shirt on my back
Not a penny to my name
Lord, I can’t go home this way

If you miss the train I'm on
Count the days I'm gone
You will hear that whistle blow a hundred miles
A hundred miles, honey baby, Lord, Lord, Lord
You’ll hear that whistle blow a hundred miles

And I'm playing on the track
Mama come and whoop me back
On the trestles down by old Jim McKay’s

When I pay the debt I owe
To the commissary store
I will pawn my watch and chain and go home
Go home, Lord, Lord, Lord, Lord
I will pawn my watch and chain and go home

Used to tell Ma sometimes
When you see them riding blind
Going to make me a home out in the wind
In the wind, Lord, Lord, in the wind
Gonna make me a home out in the wind

But I don’t like it in the wind
Gonna go back home again
But I can’t go home this way
This-a-way, Lord, Lord, this way
Lord, I can’t go home this way
This-a-way, Lord, Lord, this-a-way
And I can't go home this way

I was young when I left home
And I been out a-ramblin' round
But I never wrote a letter to my home
To my home, Lord, Lord, to my home
And I never wrote a letter to my home

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