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(Z. Muth)
We took off running in the middle of the night Hid out in the fields as we watched for the light The cars on the highway passed by We dreamed about hitching a ride Called out to wild ones of the forest and the fen They answered in a chorus we could not comprehend A song with no beginning or end And we danced to the waltz of the wayward wind
Chorus: The wayward wind is a restless wind Itâs a wind that yearns to wander The song of the rounders and the ramblinâ men Is the waltz of the wayward wind
You made your haste at the thawing of the snow I never had the money or the guts to go Just a bullet and a bottle of wine Six oâclock on Friday might find me half blind Iâll give the bartender a buck for the band Tell him any old whiskey will do Take the nearest man standing by the hand And we dance to the waltz of the wayward wind
Chorus: The wayward wind is a restless wind Itâs a wind that yearns to wander The song of the rounders and the ramblinâ men Is the waltz of the wayward wind
Have you ever had a letter you wanted to write Thinking about it kept you up through the night Once you calmed your trembling hand The words wonât come out as you had planned Itâs bound to be a hard road no matter what you haul For the leaving and the ones left behind The dreamers who donât know quite where to begin Singing along to the waltz of the wayward wind
Chorus: The wayward wind is a restless wind Itâs a wind that yearns to wander The song of the rounders and the ramblinâ men Is the waltz of the wayward wind