I was born on the Holy Ground A running child in fields of clover I was living in the grandeur Of my father's land
By the side of the swirling sea I spent the days of childish wonder And the rocks I held in my young hands I never felt them slip away
Well the sun shone bright upon the waves And the wind blew high as I was leaving And I sailed so far away Looking for adventure
But I would not stay where the city streets Proclaimed so loudly man's endeavours Though music is a pretty thing In fine company
And the wilderness took my breath away Under a sun that never falters I felt I had to find my way Where no-one ever goes
It was in the south that my new home lay With a dark eyed boy and wild horses With humming birds and roses there In old Mexico
There the winds of change they blew so far Of liberty and revolution And it seemed that each man heard in his breast The drumming of a nationTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.