
I always knew I was a wanderer at heart
When my hometown grew too tame
a jungle it became
My struggle is I don't know where to start following the compass in my brain
Wonders of this world to behold
Eifel into flight
journeyed North to see the lights
All of it as good as Irish gold, buried in the darkness of the night
And the drums of Africa are calling me
Like the rhythms of a land that I can't see
So I'm down here on my knees crying out
won't you please forgive me?
A prideful king who dreamed away his throne
his crown fell like his mane
while his tender heart grew vain
Wandering this barren land alone. Still, the wind is whispering his name
And the drums of Africa are calling me
Like the rhythms of a land that I can't see
So I'm down here on my knees crying out
won't you please forgive me?
I would go whatever distance trying to find home
Cause I've never known true comfort from anywhere I've roamed
About the Creator
alan pierce
Working on creative writing sword-and-sorcery stories, as well as essays on social change
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