There you're going to leave the old home Jim, today you're going away You're going among the city folks to dwell Said an old grey haired dead mother told her boy one summer day If your mind made up that way I wish you well Your old home will be lonely, we'll miss you when you're gone The birds were singing sweetly where you're not nigh But if you get in trouble Jim, just write let me know She spoke these words and then she said goodbye When sickness overtakes you and your companion shakes you And Through this world you wander all alone When friends you haven't any, in your pocket not one penny There's a mother always waiting for you at home, sweet home