And where are the roads to freedom? Where is the life his father knew? Where is the love, where is the joy And tell me, where are the roads to freedom? A gypsy sings, of birds with broken wings And painted wheels that never roll Who hears the sighs? Who

Take me down, down to where we start Storm rolled in to our surprise It doesn't rain under the tall trees You were my love, you were my tree You would always protect me It's easier to take a heart than to let your own by taken I love that little smile