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 way
All of you ask of me these questions
Living in the past they say
Why should I have all the answers?
Let me make my way
Did they laugh and say he's lost his mind?
Did they ever stop to wonder
Just what the fool would hope to find
On the road that leads to yonder
On the road that leads to yonder
On the road that leads to yonder
On the road that leads to yonder
On the road that leads to yonder
On the road that leads to yonder