As I lie in this room, all hazy with smoke
From the “dopes” smoking hop and sniffing at coke,
My mind wanders back just a short year ago
To the time I first started at hitting the snow.
But soon I’ll be dreaming again in my sleep
Of my little gray home away ’cross the deep;
I’ve thought of dear mother as much as I can,
I’ve fought ’gainst the dope and fought like a man.
But here as I lie on my dirty old bunk
In the Hong Kong hotel, with my head full of junk,