I've set off west to the city
A southern street crossing
And I thought
Why should I not go
Across the mountains
And the plains back to that home that I am
A poor man
Shot
And so I come home to the theater
Where I was born
That stone house
On a bitter mountainside
Why
Not
Go
Home
Dream for times
I stopped in
Look back each time
I saw hunger
Indifferent street faces when I might be a spite
You sent me out into the night
And each time I thought of the folly of trying to go home
As well I kill myself again and again
I was born to live in exile if it appeared again and again
And my one way home was by dying
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