The Remittance Man

The Remittance Man

Oh to have traveled far and wide
Nary a friend on this tide
Lonely, with no one at my side

With barely a schilling in my purse
To my good fortune, many curse
An unfortunate act, I rehearse

A dusty bag, my life contains
My heart is wrapped up in chains
Only the spirit of hope remains

I left home without my good name
Cast in to a valley of shame
For this I have only myself to blame

Many times I sit and ponder
About how many miles I will wander
Memories seem to grow fonder

Of the family, and what once was
Who is to judge what one man does?
My return would surely set the town abuzz

I reach the port, I find a bar
My pity allowance does not go far
Only I can bear this scar

All they wanted was admittance
Instead I live on a lowly pittance
A nomad, vagabond, man of remittance