Music Service


(did not chart)


Whoa, let the sun beat down upon my face With stars to fill my dream I am a traveler of both time and space To be where I have been

Log on to hide ad.

Sit with elders of a gentle race This world has seldom seen Who talk of days for which they sit in wait All will be revealed Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace Sounds caress my ear Though not a word I heard could I relate The story was quite clear Whoa oh, oh Whoa oh, oh Ooh, oh, baby I've been flying low, yeah A-mama, there ain't no denying Oh, ooh, yes, I've been flying Mama, ain't no denying No denying, no 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 Trying to find, trying to find where I've been, ahhh Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace Like thoughts inside a dream Who hid the path that led me to that place With yellow desert screen My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon I will return again Sure as the dust that blows high in June When moving through Kashmir Oh, father of the four winds fill my sails cross the sea of years With no provision but an open face along the straits of fear Whoa oh, whoa oh Whoa oh, oh Whoa, when I'm on When I'm on my way, yeah When I see, when I see The way you stay, yeah Ooh, yeah, yeah Ooh, yeah, yeah Well, I'm down, oh Ooh, yeah, yeah Ooh, yeah, yeah Well, I'm down, so down Ooh, my baby Ooh, my baby Let me take you there Oh, oh, come on, come on Oh, let me take you there Let me take you there Ooh, yeah, yeah Ooh, yeah, yeah


Site by: Todd

Log on to hide ad.