I travel a lonesome mile. In the meanwhile
the road gets longer
Sometimes the places I see, they become a part of me
Their memory is stronger
than what is real and I feel
like maybe I've been blind
to see not what I've got
but what I've left behind

I climbed Gorham Mountain. At the top I started shouting
I ain't never coming down
As the sky turned to black, I decided to go back
head on into town
where I had no friend so I went in
into a friendly bar
I listened round to the sound
of people being who they are

Every dream I've ever known, I don't think it's my own
It is a hand-me-down
like the concepts of love, the night sky above
this little tourist town
that lies beneath me as I breathe
and try to find some sense
when the stars can't be defied, because they never even tried
to make a difference

Blueberries grow on Gorham Mountain
They grow wild and they grow sweet
I looked down and I found them
growing wild right there at my feet

I travel a lonesome mile. In the meanwhile
the road gets longer
Now I'm feeling kind of spent. I'm wondering where it went
this feeling I am strong or
is it true, you don't have to do
Lord anything at all
but take one step or the other and then another
and get up when you fall