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...