|
There's a kind of a restless feeling and it pulls me from within |
|
It sets my senses reeling and my wheels begin to spin |
|
In the quietude of winter you can hear the wild geese cry |
|
And i will always love that sound until the day i die |
|
There's a plain and a simple answer to each and every quest |
|
From every quiet dance who might be a special guest |
|
In a movie made for tv or a late night interview |
|
You might even find them on the young and the restless too |
|
Do ya get that restless feelin' when you hear a whistle blast |
|
Like an echo from the past |
|
Of an old engine flyin' down a road that's ironcast |
|
The lake is blue, the sky is gray, the leaves have turned to gold |
|
The wild goose will be on her way, the weather's much too cold |
|
When the muskie and the old trout too have all gone down to rest |
|
We will be returning to the things that we love best |
|
Do ya get that restless yearning when you think about your dad |
|
And the scrimshaw that he had |
|
Of an old schooner rovin' 'neath a sky that's ironclad |
|
There's a kind of a restless feeling and it catches you off guard |
|
As we gaze off at the distance through the trees in my back yard |
|
I can feel that restless yearning of those geese as off they roam |
|
Then trade that for a warm bed and a place i can call home |
|
Will ya get that restless yearning when you hear the wicked blast |
|
Of a spectre from the past |
|
Of a cold diesel rollin' down a road that's built to last |
|
Still i get that restless feelin' when i hear a whistle blast |
|
See an image from the past |
|
Of an old schooner flyin' down a sky that's overcast |
