Again I tread down this well-worn path,
A route left unmarked on every map:
Past the towering oaks and burgeoning weeds
Past the windy meadow and the dandelion seeds
Down the lonely trail twisting through the hills
Up through the mountain range where the world stands still
And just when I thought I found my story's end,
I find myself searching all over again
For somewhere, I know you yet lie in wait
Though where that may be, I cannot say
So I will keep searching for you on this familiar road,
With nothing but my backpack, I step forth and go
Through summers and winters, to years gray and old
I wander on and on with an unwavering hope
And though I am lost, I hold it close in my soul
Because no matter how long on this vast earth I roam,
I know this path of ours will always lead me home.