Calling
Morris albertSearching for thoughts already lost in time of many doos
and dont's and many rights wrongs
Calling someone, just anyone in sight that maybe
understands and freely be my friend
Well, I'm calling and no one there replies
Only my echo flows, riding the wind that blows back on my face, reminding me of home
And here I go, this road is empty need to find the way, still on my own
And I keep on calling
No ones out, there still I feel, there's someone else around
It's gotta be me, calling myself...
Memories are could and dark, the rain is pouring hard
No one's around, just voices on my mind,
I let the echo flow, I ride the wind that blows still, calling someone, but all it's left it's me
The one to understand, the hand to hold my hand
Well I'm calling...
The storm is over, roads are busy found the way to, where I once belonged
And I keep on calling everybody's out, there but, it's I, who should reply
I's gotta be me, I'm calling my self
Well, the storm is over, roads are busy found the way to, where I once belonged
And I keep on calling
Everybody's out, there but, it's I, who should reply...
It'sgotta be me, calling my self... me and my self... the storm is over...
riding the wind that blows back to my self...