Hands in my pockets as I walk across the street

I’m feeling tired by my legs they feel a different beat

In my mind, and in my body and my soul

I know the path’s the same, it’s just that I am getting old.

Down to the river whose waters still flow the same

I ask the river if I’ll ever find my way again

And from her depths I hear her churn, I hear her say

‘Your path is long and you will never know the way’.

And now with bare feet and with grass stains on my jeans

I stop in front of a tree as old as could be.

I ask the tree if I will ever, ever know

When it is my time to go.

But you will know I was here:

I was swimming in your bays.

But you will know I was here:

I was singing every day

Hands in my pockets as I walk across the street

I’m feeling tired by my legs they feel a different beat

In my mind, and in my body and my soul

I know the path’s the same, it’s just that I am getting old.

And to the sky that hangs above on broken strings

Fill it with your planes, and your clouds and all your favorite things.

I ask the sky if I will ever get to see

The machinations that go on behind the scenes.

But you will know I was here:

I was swimming in your bays.

But you will know I was here:

I was singing every day