Five Hundred Miles Away From Home. (Bobby Bare) Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Five hundred miles, I roam so far,
Beneath a lonely, distant star.
Mama's note, a tear did trace,
Her loving words, in this far place.

'We miss you, son, we love you so,
Come on back, where warm hearts glow.'
My pack was light, no need to stow,
Everything I own, I carry low.

Five hundred miles from home I stray,
Cold and tired, I lose my way.
Alone I walk this weary road,
Five hundred miles, a heavy load.

The path I took when I set free,
Now looks a stranger, just to me.
And I, it seems, have changed right too,
For time reshapes both old and new.

What will they say, when they behold,
Their boy, grown weary, worn and old?
What words will fall, when I arrive,
And see their faces, still alive?

I can't recall my last good meal,
Just walking, waiting, how I feel.
Still five hundred miles to go,
My lonely journey, sad and slow.

If fortune smiled, and luck was mine,
I'd be with them, in sweet design.
But still I stand, beneath the dome,
Five hundred miles away from home.

Away from home, away from home,
Cold and tired, I sadly roam.
Yes, I'm still five hundred miles from home.
Ho, I'm still five hundred miles from home.