I was young when I left home
And I've been all round and round,
But I never wrote a letter to my home,
To my home Lord,
Lord to my home,
And I never wrote a letter to my home
It was just the other day,
I was bringing on my pay,
I met an old friend I used to know,
Said, "Your mamma's dead and gone,
Baby sister's all gone wrong
And your daddy needs you home right away."
Not a shirt on my back,
Not a penny to my name,
Lord I can't go home this way.
If you miss the train I'm on,
Count the days I'm gone,
You'll hear that whistle blow a hundred miles.
Hundred miles honey bean,
Lord, Lord, Lord...
You'll hear that whistle blow a hundred miles.
And I'm
Writer(s): Bob Dylan
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