Still searching for my way, the right way to be Still pondering what I've done I'm still thinking what I've said Still finding from within And all that I know is still not enough I'm being held by the one shadow tormenting my soul The curving neck of the swan The slow turning of a bird's head So white its plumes and feathers Its breast like the moon in water Silent and tranquil it moves On the river in the calm ♪ I wander back on familiar roads I sense the marks I left on the hills I see the cuts and wounds of my deeds They make me muse on life ♪ Up the hill and the mountain I look back, I look down There flows the River of Death And here, the wind in my hair