No permanent home, no mobile phone
He doesn't need any of that.
All that he wants, all that he needs
Carried in a bag on his back

No hot morning shower to brighten his day
Just a dip in an icy cold stream
He wanders the byways and small country roads
Seeking to fulfill all his dreams

He needs no soft bed under a roof
Just a grassy bed under the moon
Far does he travel the small country lanes
He needs no bus tram or train

He's quite content with the life that he chose
The life of a wandering man
No beers or fine wines will he ever drink
For him cool clear water is fine

For his dinner the food that nature provides
So no worries about earning a wage
His life is just an unfinished book
Each new day the start of an unwritten page

He's quite content living this way
Living under the moon and the stars
But he knows it will end as for all men it must
When he finally writes his last page.