When train wheels screech The plumes of smoke arise And snowflakes breach The cold and empty skies Read to me of wanderers and whims Of a man who traveled over mountains grim Of the voices calling him When billows break With revelry on stone When treetops quake And the ground beneath us groans Sing to me of wars waged in the night Of courage true when all hope waned with the light Of a fallen hero's plight Oh, oh When voices cease And silence holds its ground When tea leaves steep And passing thoughts are bound Sit with me in the warmth of our home Grateful, God did not will for us to roam Nor to live our days alone