My brothers haven’t written since they made for the coast
I hope that they have found the lives that they wanted most
I haven’t ticked the days away the past I can’t retrace
But seven years is long enough to forget my face
I walked along that mountainside to find a place to run
Footsteps on a broken fence toward salvation
Ask me what I’m searching for a place to lay my head
Or fleeing from my mother’s eyes a morning sun red
Heathen circles round the fire burning aimless souls
Write a line to k** the time or tell us of your home
Of the life I can recall a faint tinge of guilt
How could I abandon them the house my father built
I’m alone, I’m alone, severed growth a mortal home
Vagaband won’t you carry on, vagabond won’t you carry on
The shoes I gave without the soles to some bearded folk
I tipped my cap to Adelaide and hung out the window
Screaming with the ocean’s guide I look to the sun
They’d give anything and everything to do what I had done