Drifter's Prayer

From as far back as I can remember, I've been a drifter The drifting life is a lonely life but the only life I know When I was young, I ran away from home and rode the railways for years Across the cornfields and quarries and all the broken-down piers I saw the green land and the big burning sky A great dream of heaven in the world going by These were the old and golden days of my youth Even back then, I knew it as truth Drifting was in my blood, in my veins There was no other way In summеr, you'd find work on the midway fairs With the boys from Bostock and caravan city Working the turnstilеs and waltzers Speaking Parlyaree, the secret language of the carnival But it was always part-time work And when the autumn came, I'd feel the pull of the drifting life again Once a drifter, always a drifter Those are the rules of the game I came of age and the world changed The traveling fairs vanished A new Funland appeared on the coast And old carnies like me were turned into ghosts I lived out of hotels and bars and old stolen cars I fell out of love so many times Somewhere inside me, a small fire died Ah, but the drift, the drift, the drifting life That was the life that was mine Now I sleep on the crystal shore With the far-away pier, all lit up like a magic torch Sometimes I lie there and wonder, what is the weight of the moon? What is the weight of love? What does it mean to be truly free, under the sky and its mystery? The answer will always be to drift, to drift To drift is to be free