The Travelers

Baton the hatches these roving souls
These cracks in my face my grey hair bold
These old sea stained eyes, these pipe soaked teeth
All a portrait of a man whose name is grief

I've heard the beauty of a seagulls screech
With the promise of land just out of reach
Cast far away by this wandering shoal
Just recked by the fragrance of times of old
Just recked by the fragrance of times of old

We will sing, of these roving hearts as we sail
Captured by these stars
We will dance in these boxcars of old
Just two roving souls waiting for life to unfold

I've seen the white caps from which you have come
But the promise of freedom is not found In them
I know the secrets of wondering free
Just a boxcar and a nap-sack is all that I need

It can be dangerous that's for sure
Running from bulls in these Chicago yards
But beauty unmatched is not out of reach
Just a boxcar and a nap-sack is all that I need
Just two rails below me and engine grease
Just two rails below me and engine grease

We will sing, of these roving hearts as we sail
Captured by these stars
We will dance in these boxcars of old
Just two roving souls waiting for life to unfold

Well my old friend we can daydream all we want
But when the whistle its sounds it commanding haunt
We shall return from our wistful old tail
Cause we're just two average Joes in this factory jail
Just two average Joes in this factory hell
Just two average Joes in this factory jail
Just two average Joes in this factory hell

We will sing, of these roving hearts as we sail
Captured by these stars
We will dance in these boxcars of old
Just two roving souls waiting for life to unfold