| | Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be, where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days, for which they sit and wait, and all will be revealed
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear,
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear
Oh, oh.
Oh, I been flying... mama, there ain‘t no denyin‘
I‘ve been flying, ain‘t no denyin‘, no denyin‘
All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground.
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land,
Trying to find, trying to find, where I‘ve been.
Oh, pilot of the storm, who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream,
Heed the path, that led me to that place, yellow desert stream.
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again,
Sure, as the dust, that floats high in June, when movin‘ through Kashmir.
Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision, but an open face, along the of fear.
Ohh.
When I‘m on, when I‘m on my way, yeah.
When I see, when I see the way, you stay...yeah.
Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah, when I‘m down...
Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah, well, I‘m down, so down
Ooh, my baby, oooh, my baby, let me take you there
Let me take you there. Let me take you there.. |
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