The Old Vagabond

Written by: Arild Andresen Ertsland

                                      Old forgotten graveyard
                                       Here rests a vagabond
                                  His bonfires are no longer seen  
                              His worn-out shoes walks no more
                 Many miles beneath the sun and starry nights has stopped
                        He has been granted with a place called home
                                     Never owned a single cent
                                     Lived from hand to mouth
                            Free from life..Free from commitments

                                  A huge heart of gold he had
                                  If he had four slices of bread
                           His way was three for you,one for himself
                             The sound of his shuffeling foot steps
                Now replaced by almost whispering winds embracing the hills
                        Sweepes across the landscape like floating ghosts
                           Freedom he found..He now rest in a paradise

                               Away from poverty and suffering
                      Surrounded by golden hearts and equality for all
                            He no longer live from hand to mouth
                His worn-out shoes still remains back at that ol`graveyard
                                         Need them no longer
           Where he now resides,he walk the floor of soft clouds and heavenly peace
             The kindness shared with folks he met along that dusty highway
             Finally gave him a grand place among eternal love and spiritual freedom


A.Ertsland
March 2nd 2012