This. My life.
And as I lay upon the grass,
I look up to see the candles of the skies.
Drifter by day, nomad by night,
The same old voyage, the same old plight.
What if the twinkle in the sky that we see
Is really a call, a desperate plea?
How lonely, I cannot imagine. To go
Alone everywhere. Secluded
They must feel, and my heart goes out to them.
And like a rolling stone, they do not stop
To dwell on this.
How hard it must be, to never have a friend.