I can hear those dreams a’calling,
And I’m drawn as a moth to a flame.
I give you my love and bid thee farewell,
For I shant pass this way again.
Oh, the tears I cry,
Are for those who’ll die,
Without knowing what it is to change.
I speak thus of wanderlust,
And strength born of pain.
(1983)
Lyrics: Wicasta Lovelace
Music: Wicasta Lovelace
