Who knows what sorrows abide
In the heart of a strange lonely man
He was born with an urge to roam
And he never had a home of his own
He was slender and tall the strange man they call
The Drifter
He must drift evermore on the range
For that old wanderlust in his veins
Makes him strangely akin to the strong restless wind
That blows
On cold and lonely nights after his campfire dies
He dreams of someone dear and a home of his own
But when the new day dawns all of his dreams are gone
For the lonely trail is all he's ever known
As he rides neath the sun day by day
And he's searching to find the way
Over hot burnin' sand that tortures a lonely man
Who knows what sorrows abide
In the heart of a strange lonely man
The Lonely Man - Sheb Wooley
