Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face,
With stars to fill my dreams
I am a traveler of both time and space
To be where I have been
To sit with elders of a gentle race,
This world has seldom seen
They talk of days for which they sit and wait
When all will be revealed.
And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Tryin' to find, tryin' to find where I've been.
Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace
Like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place,
Yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon,
I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June
When movin' through Kashmir.
Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails
Across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face,
Along the straits of fear
Whoa-oh, oh, oh.
All I see turns to brown
As the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Tryin' to find where I've been
Tryin' to find, tryin' to find...
Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah...