Heavy Is the Head

I had a next-door neighbor that
wore his house on his head like a hat.

He sat down on my lawn one day.
He shook my hand and said, "I'll stay."
A few days later he walked away.

In his house he had his family.
He took them everywhere they asked to see.
I'd see the pictures when he'd visit me.

Tel Aviv, Mt. Rushmore, Rome,
Hazard County, Toronto, Nome.
Wherever he was, that man was home.

"Ramblin' Man" was his favorite song.
He never stayed in the same place long
(which is why his legs were so darn strong).

He once said, "This life don't stink!"
And through his window I could see him wink.
He said, "It's better than you think,
But it's not as easy as you think.
It's true I live wherever I roam,
but heavy is the head that wears the home.
Heavy is the head that wears the home.
Heavy is the head that wears the home."