Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face
With stars to fill my dreams
I am a traveler of both time and space
To be where I have been
To sit with elders of a gentle race
This world has seldom seen
They talk of days for which they sit and wait
When all will be revealed

And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Tryin' to find, tryin' to find where I've been

Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace
Like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place
Yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon
I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June
When movin' through Kashmir

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails
Across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face
Along the straits of fear
Whoa-oh, oh, oh
All I see turns to brown
As the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Tryin' to find where I've been
Tryin' to find, tryin' to find...

Ooh, yeah-yeah, ooh, yeah-yeah...