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(yxBUd)
where my freedom springs
I need to know
who stand alone
dust like me
What manner of men are these
who fly so free
What manner of men are these
Not bound to any planet's rules
Not tied to clocks and herding
In all they do or say to me
well-known to stars
tools - Not serving country
minded fools - Not chained to
Not limited to one tribe's lands
They fill my dreams with
The echo of the stars they see
Not fed by any one tribe's hands
The mountains where my border
Confirms that one could be so
stands confine like prison bars
What manner of men are these
and I am called to go
wondrous things And give my soul
free - It gnaws me to the bone
What manner of men are these
impatient wings - They show me
