Lyrics: Harry Robertson
Music: Traditional Norwegian
For I’ve travelled hard these last ten weary years,
And my youthful dreams have slowly turned to fears,
If you think I am complaining, I can tell you that I’m not,
For I know that this is just the drifter’s lot.
Many years my home has been the wayside camp,
And I’ve starved and sweated on the river banks,
And I’ve fought with fists and feet, roughneck drifters that I meet,
Broken dreams and bottles pave my lonely street.
As a homeless boy I thought when I’m a man,
I will change this world and right what wrongs I can,
Since then I have met defeat, it’s a bitter bread to eat
And the homeless boy is now a homeless man.
Happiness has not been mine upon this earth,
Both my parents left me when they met their death,
And I’ll drink before I eat, with the drifters that I meet,
But the sorrow here is mine, and mine alone.
So my friends I think that I must move along,
And I’m glad that you have listened to my song,
For the road is all I know, and I wander it alone,
As an outcast homeless drifter, and unknown.
© Harry Robertson,
and subsequently ©1995 Mrs Rita Robertson, Brisbane, AUSTRALIA
Registered with APRA-AMCOS www.apra-amcos.com.au