The Holy Ground

I was born on the holy ground
A running boy in fields of clover I was
Living in the grandeur of my father's land

By the side of the swirling sea
I spent the days of childish wonder and
the rocks i held in my young hands
I never felt them slip away

The sun shone bright upon the waves
The wind blew high as i was leaving and
I sailed so far away
Looking for adventure...

But i would not stay where the city streets
proclaimed so loudly man's endeavour
Though music is a pretty thing,
In fine company

And the wilderness took my breath away
under a sun that never falters
A man has to find his way
where no-one ever goes

It was in the south where my new home lay
The dark eyed girl and wild horses,
Hummingbirds and roses there,
in Old Mexico

And the wilderness took my breath away
under a sun that never falters
A man has to find his way where
Noone ever goes...

The winds of change they blew so far
Liberty and revolution and,
Seemed that each man heard in his breast, the
Drumming of a nation

And on the fields where the guns did play
I fell there with many another
Where sage brush grows
and the desert wind
Is blowin' free...

I was born on the holy ground
A running boy in fields of clover;
I was living in the grandeur of
my fathers love

By the side of the swirling sea
I spent the days of childish wonder and
the rocks i held in my young hands
I never felt them slip away