On my way
No vestige of her I press on
I chanced upon an old man
Sitting with his back to me
And there
In his hand
The yellow ribbon from her hair
Better years have passed
The way's been hard he turned
And then he said to me
The Watcher in the sky
Holds her in his hands
In his hands
Her spirit wind passed by
And I could hear her tears on the wind
And feel her pain
How many moons?
My people tracked this sacred ground
And when I'm still
I can hear the owl
As she whispers out the secrets of the wind
One true spirit speaking to my soul
The Watcher in the sky
Takes her by the hand
By the hand
Her spirit wind passed by
And I can see her weep by a stream
She still draws breath
I'll take you there...
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