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| they left their home |
| at the break of day |
| took along what little |
| they could carry away |
| "mother, when will we be back |
| to what our home has been ?" |
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| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
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| so they stayed in a camp |
| the father was gone |
| big brother left, too, |
| still life went on |
| "when will I see them again, |
| how long it has been !?" |
|
| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
|
| the mother got sick |
| food was scarce there |
| so she kept getting weaker |
| more than she could bear |
| "mother, please stay with me, |
| come back to where you have been" |
|
| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
|
| so he was alone |
| and the world made him fear |
| he put on a brave face |
| kept back the tears |
| and he tried to forget |
| all he had seen |
|
| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
|
| one day he was chosen |
| by people he`d never known |
| to have a new life |
| to have a new home |
| though his mem`ries live on |
| of the life that`s once been |
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| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
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| so he plays the games |
| that children will play |
| and he learns his skills |
| in school day-by-day |
| you could call him lucky |
| for he has it good |
| and he lives the life |
| that a good boy should |
| but at night he cries |
| when in silent embrace |
| he holds his past |
| and his mother`s face |
| that`ll always be dearest |
| of all he has seen |
|
| "hold on, my son, and follow the wind" |
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