The Globetrotting Renegade
He breathed his monotonous homely air
And felt it was not his time to be there,
And departed for world-famed distant shores
Where he believed happiness brimless flows.
And true the sundry scenes promised change:
On the bitumened streets were gals of every range
And though the languages were new, all looked fair
And his heart throbbed with the puff of foreign air.
He liked the taste of the liquor folks imbibed there
As well as their willing capacity to dream and dare,
And so he began to think: “My heart’s merry at last”,
And cursed his country and washed himself of the past.
He taught himself the rules associated with foreign codes
And marveled at his capability to adopt unfamiliar modes,
He forsook the old and with feigned piety learned politer faiths
Convinced that his father’s religion was a careful set of myths.
But when all was forgotten and the new seemed ever right
The silent old started to haunt his every other sleepless night,
So he couldn’t take it anymore, and returned after years had passed,
And when he puffed again the native air, he sighed: “I’m home at last!”
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