Will I Be Welcome
– © Richard Ruane 2005
If they talk of me at home, what do they say?
Do some think I might have died, do some think I ran away?
Do they think I turned my back,
On my people and their lack,
And if I should go back, will I be welcome?
Will I be welcomed by my family and my friends?
Will they choose to turn their backs on me,
Not welcome me again?
The home I knew so well, what story will it tell?
If I go back there to dwell, will I be welcome?
Home had been too small and too well known when I was young
I thought I’d make my way, and then return with what I'd won
Oh, but I failed; I would not say what I’d become
When I left I thought I knew what I would meet
But I lost my way and ended, drinking, living on the street
After many years, I learned
I found my feet and money earned
But if I should return, will I be welcome?
Now I’m twenty miles outside my family’s land
And I’m standing at a payphone, change waiting in my hand
I hear the money fall
Rest my head against the wall
But if I make this call, will I be welcome?
