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