[Storyteller.]

It's not hard to see;
anyone who looks at me
knows I am just a rolling stone,
never landed any place
to call my own,
to call my own.

Well it seems like so long ago,
but it really ain't, you know,
I started off a crazy kid,
miracle I made it through
the things I did.

Some day I'll go
where there ain't
no rain or snow.
Til then I'll
travel alone.

And I'll make my bed
with the stars above my head
and dream of a place
called home.

I had a chance to settle down,
get a job and live in town,
work in some old factory.
I never liked the foreman
standing over me.

No, I rather walk on a windy road,
rather know the things I know,
see the world with my own eye.
No regrets, no looking back,
no goodbyes.