[Verse 1] I kissed the cradle, kissed the door, waved off the smoke and steam, Told Ma I'd be back by spring, and clung to that small dream. They handed me a spear and greed gave me a coin for each fall, Said "Climb the ranks, take every camp", I learned a costly call. I slit a throat, I broke a shield, I learned the taste of bone, But every prize they pinned on me just keeps me far from home. [Chorus - Troubadour] He wants to go home, he begs for the loam, but fate will not condone. He tries to break his body free the world keeps making him a stone. Let him come home, let him come home but the nobles want him known: He wants to go home, he wants to go home, yet their glory keeps him gone. [Verse 2] I brewed a draught to slack the belt and finish what I owed, Laid poison in a cup and watched the lantern gutter low. I lifted up the chalice like a man who’s done with strife Some sneering rat in velvet boots took it down and saved my life. He smiled and fell with eyes like coins; they buried him in chrome, They called it plot and cunning I got another letter home. [Chorus - Troubadour] He wants to go home, he begs for the loam, but fate will not condone. He tries to break his body free the world keeps making him a stone. Let him come home, let him come home but the nobles want him known: He wants to go home, he wants to go home, yet their glory keeps him gone. [Verse 3] I swung a hammer at my thumb to make them send me back, A simple smashed and ruined life to break the bloody track. But timing is a cruel buffoon: a helmet split that blow, An enemy's head caught iron and tumbled in a row. They found a wound that wasn't mine and strapped me with a cone, They lauded "bravery" then booked my bed far from home. [Chorus - Troubadour] He wants to go home, he begs for the loam, but fate will not condone. He tries to break his body free the world keeps making him a stone. Let him come home, let him come home but the nobles want him known: He wants to go home, he wants to go home, yet their glory keeps him gone. [Verse 4] I sat at stairs and sharpened steel and counted every breath, Planned how a stumble, how a slip, could cheat me out of death. Then General Pride misjudged his step, his boot caught on a whore, He tumbled down and met my blade his head rolled on the floor. They shouted "victory!" I thought: God, this fate’s a rotten poem, They ferried me to banners bright and sent a courier to home. [Chorus - Troubadour] He wants to go home, he begs for the loam, but fate will not condone. He tries to break his body free the world keeps making him a stone. Let him come home, let him come home but the nobles want him known: He wants to go home, he wants to go home, yet their glory keeps him gone. [Bridge] My daughter's drawing on the page a crooked sun, a hound, She writes "Will you come?" in childish scratch and folds it safe and down. I press the fold against my chest and think the room will split, If mercy were a hand of men, it would have pulled me with it. But greed buys medals, greed buys me a name and sells my night's small room, So I wear their praise like heavy mail and sleep inside a tomb. [Verse 5] If I could trade this storied sword for one small hearth's warm glow, I'd trade a thousand victories for bread and embers low. But every time I try to fail, some clumsy angel grins: A shield takes iron meant for me, a fool falls into sins. They strip my pleas and make them brass, they train my hands to roam I beg for simple dirt and bed; the world keeps me from home. [Final Chorus - Troubador] He wants to go home, he begs for the loam, but fate will not condone. He tries to break his body free the world keeps making him a stone. Let him come home, let him come home but the nobles want him known: He wants to go home, he wants to go home, yet their glory keeps him gone. [Outro] I want to go home, I beg for the loam, but fate will not condone. I try to break my body free the world keeps making me a stone. Let me go home, let me go home but the nobles want me known: I want to go home, I want to go home, yet their glory keeps me gone.
