My heart is yearning to follow the sun
Westward o'er a golden sea
Upon a raft made of my memories.
I will anchor there when day is done
On my beloved homes  distant shore
And those I love will welcome me once more.
But words that I'd been saving now are gone
scattered like rose petals on far streets,
Then what is left to spread beneath their feet?
Or it may be I've been away to long
And there is nothing more for me to see
And only ghosts are left to welcome me.