Sweet music drifts in through the open window
As he drifts in
Sits wearily down
Talks of all the drama, all the dreams
All the places he's been.
He's seen the frozen lakes,
The dolphins in the wild,
The bronzed mountains of Nepal
The string of precious pearls from the distant maldives.
Don't listen to him, they whisper,
He's a hypnotiser, a mesmeriser.
I know him from before.
But then my path was clear
The siren's song was fresh to hear,
The echo, calling, beckoning
With him towards the Stratosphere.
But now I see the open road through the window.
It's a road of sadness they say,
Especially with him to lead the way.
Winding, curving to who knows where.
The curtain blows idly, so lazily
In the soft Autumn breeze
And the traveller's eyes settle on me.
When all the others have had their fill of his tales
And have crept away,
I return as he knew I would.
His heavily stamped passport open on the floor,
Like an invitation to a never ending dance,
Waltzing with the empty visa of my life.
I want to leave with you, I say,
I want to escape.
His face is more weather beaten than I remember.
I sit before him and I say,
Everything that makes me stay, makes me want to get away,
When daybreak comes, I'll be leaving with you.
The traveller laughs quietly to himself,
He's heard it all before,
All before . . . .