The Travelling Man

The travelling man A travelling man, is what I am, Born I was to roam, I come along, but then I’m gone, Freedom is my home. Settling down is not for me, I wander all around, I live a life of what will be, adventures to be found, Places to go and people to see, in many a different town, Living life so wild and free, without a worried frown. I survive, no nine to five, With odd jobs, now and then, Digging ditch, don’t make me rich, But I’m back on the road again. Women ask me why oh why, do I just keep moving on, I give the answer, I need to fly, to where my heart belongs A little kiss, a quick goodbye, a smile a wave I’m gone, Like an eagle needs the sky, I need my freedom song. No heavy load, for a man on the road, Wide open spaces and sky, Don’t feel the blues, in roaming shoes, I’m just a travelling guy. Different things to see and do, people yet to meet, Towns to visit old and new, where I rest my weary feet, Stopping for a week or two, these times so bitter sweet, Another quick goodbye, adieu, as I march along the street. I'll keep on going, where the wind is blowing, Till I'm dead and gone, And when that passes, please give my ashes, To the wind, so I travel on.