It’s a long way up the gravel lane
And my legs are stiff, all asleep
But the light’s on in the kitchen
So she must be still awake
The boys at work don’t smoke my brand,
Put my tobacco by my chair.
Turn that old radio on,
Real quiet,
And just sit there.
I’ve been looking for you all night long,
I’ve been alone all day
Put the kettle on the burner
I’m coming home soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem