Solitude's my home - Rod mckuen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above the pounding of the rain

beyond the rolling of the sea

a thousand people know my name

and one　or two may yet know me.

There in the middle of the night

I’ll find a friendly face

and I’ll be taken back again

to some new loving place.

And no... not being left alone

although Solitude’s My Home.

 

Faces there are I haven’t seen

faces there are I’ll never see

but what a waste it would have been

had I been anyone but me.

Still... if I seem a little proud

my head will often bend

on seeing someone in a crowd

I’ll never hope to comprehend.

Oh no... I’m not alone

Although Solitude’s My Home.

 

I try to beg the hand of help

sometimes when silence gets to rough

all I can offer is myself

that never seems to be enough.

And yet there are some men who kill

for less than someone’s hand

at some things I can onl　y guess

and never hope to understand.

No. I’m not alone

although Solitude’s My Home.

 

I turn my face toward the wind

and shuffle down the darkened street

with winter coming on again

there’s no telling who I’ll meet.

Perhaps an arm will open up

to hold me for a while

who knows what waits within the night

beneath the surface of a smile.

Oh no... I’m not alone

though I know Solitude’s My Home.

 

Above the pounding of the rain

beyond the rolling of the sea

a thousand people know my name

and one　or two may yet know me.

There in the middle of the night

I’ll find a friendly face

and I’ll be taken back again

to some new loving place.

And no... not being left alone

although Solitude’s My Home.

 

No... I’m not alone

although Solitude’s My Home