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