When train wheels screech
The plumes of smoke arise
And snowflakes breach
The cold and empty skies
Read to me of wanderers and whims
Of a man who traveled over mountains grim
Of the voices calling him

When billows break
With revelry on stone
When treetops quake
And the ground beneath us groans
Sing to me of wars waged in the night
Of courage true when all hope waned with the light
Of a fallen hero's plight

Oh, oh

When voices cease
And silence holds its ground
When tea leaves steep
And passing thoughts are bound
Sit with me in the warmth of our home
Grateful, God did not will for us to roam
Nor to live our days alone