Оригинален текст
Patrick Simmons
Well, a travelin' man's affliction makes it hard to settle down
But I'm stuck here in the flatlands while my heart is homeward bound
Goin' back, I'm too tired to roam, Loma Prieta my mountain home
On the hills above Santa Cruz, in the place where I spent my youth
Well it was Neal Cassady that started me to travelin'
All the stories that were told, I believed them every one
And it's a windin' road I'm on you understand
And no time to worry 'bout tomorrow when you're followin' the sun
Papa don't you worry now and mama don't you cry
Sweet woman don't forsake me, I'll be comin' by and by
Goin' back, I'm too tired to roam, Loma Prieta my mountain home
On the hills above Santa Cruz, in the place where I spent my youth