Born in your town on this young morning
Oh certainly I have good luck coming
Sadly sadly have I mourned making heavy my burden
Such toils to entwine me
No more to endure them
A lover is to me she is my companion
Six strings at my hand to the morning I tuned them
Oh warm room I have and a warm place for sleeping
Black coffee to waken me
No more to be dreaming
The wings of the albatross long since I saw him
The hair of the goats as they walk to the island
In the hands of the watchers a page is turned over
And the echoes flow on rippling on
On the face of the river
What would I wish for if wishing were having
In the streets of your town I see nothing worth stealing
For autumn speaks leaves to the lost deeps forever
And the clouds echo on echoing on
On the face of the river
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