David Lamotte Follow

The birds flying south for the winter
Must think I'm losing my mind
Driving north at the end of November
Certainly I should remember
Idaho's winters aren't kind

A friend told me once for this country
This is the best time of year
There'ill surely be no competition
I'm the only travelling musician
No one else would choose now to come here

I stop into these taverns for company
Where the music and laughter are loud
Only to find there's no loneliness
Like being lonely in a crowd

Northbound
Northbound

It's like standing in line at a wedding
Receiving the guests with a smile
For a moment a face fills my vision
I shake hands like a tired politician
And I'd love just to talk for a while

But the faces keep changing each minute
Guessing at names I don't know
It's so hard to keep on believing
Seems I spend so much time leaving
And so little time coming home

And I guess it's a bit of a pattern
How I find a warm place and then run
Like all I can see is the shadows
When I stand in the light of the sun

Northbound
Northbound

Today there's no sunlight to stand in
The sky's just as gray as the ground
And the birds are all leaving this town