A Traveler's Song
They say that men have their own homeThey say that women have their own homeThose who wander about have nothing at allAnd have no clue where they once used to beCome along, love, for the travelers roaming aloneCome along, love, tell them to return hereThough those days are gone, our dreams won't be goneSing, sing to meThat there must be something we won't forgetThough love is gone, our dreams won't be goneSing, sing to meThat there must be something we won't forget
They say that the west has its own righteousnessThey say that the east has its own righteousnessThose who wander about know nothing at allOnly to be confused at the way the wind veers everyday and nightI hearken to the song about to be carried away by the windAnd through the wind I will reward them with what they deserveThough those days are gone, our dreams won't be goneSing, sing to meThat there must be something we won't forgetThough love is gone, our dreams won't be goneSing, sing to meThat there must be something we won't forget