If they ask you where the old man's gone, you may say you saw me leaving.And if they ask you, did I crawl, you may say that I was riding.If they ask you, was I bent with care, or did I hang my head in sorrow?You may say that I wrote home, and looking forward to tomorrow.If they ask you, did I travel light, with no provision close beside me?Say my saddlebags were filled, with all the dreams I need to guide me.All you ask of me is questions, living in the past they say.Why should I have all the answers?Let me make my wayAll of you ask of me these questionsLiving in the past they sayWhy should I have all the answers?Let me make my wayDid they laugh and say he's lost his mind?Did they ever stop to wonderJust what the fool would hope to findOn the road that leads to yonderOn the road that leads to yonderOn the road that leads to yonderOn the road that leads to yonderOn the road that leads to yonderOn the road that leads to yonder