In the twilight I wandered alone,
Far, far away from own native home.
Fatherless, motherless sadly I roam:
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.

I’ll have no-one to welcome me home far away,
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.
And when I will return to the land of my birth,
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.

‘Tis well I remember that little brown cot
In old Ireland far over the sea.
That little brown cot in the top of the hill,
Where my mother stands waiting for me.

Saying, ‘Me boy you are bound for a strange land to roam,
And you’re leaving me here all alone.
If you ever return to the land of your birth,
You won’t have me to welcome you home.’

I’ll have no-one to welcome me home far away
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.
And when I will return to the land of my birth
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.

My mother she stood at the quay all alone,
With a handkerchief up to her eyes.
As she watched the big ship sailing out with the tide,
It was then she began for to cry.

Saying, ‘Me boy, take this locket a gift now from me,
And inside there her photo was placed.
And these were the words she embraced with a sigh:
‘You won’t have me to welcome you home.’

I’ll have no-one to welcome me home far away,
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.
And when I will return, to the land of my birth,
I’ll have no-one to welcome me home.

"Ballyvourney singer Elizabeth Cronin sang this for Seamus Ennis in 1952; Ennis commented in his note for the BBC index: 'A late 19th century song, but interesting for the singer's treatment of the older tune.' Tom’s version is one of the few indications that it passed into the oral tradition in Ireland. It was recorded in America and Canada by collectors there."
Jim Carroll