On the first day of the journey
The traveller was prepared
Words of consolation were never heard
He didn't know where he was going
Just a poem in his mind
And all the things he valued, he left behind
Running for the money
Running for the fame
Lost where he was going
And forgot his name
The Promised Land was waiting
His vision led him on
But only promises were waiting
For the rest had gone
So he asked a band of travellers
Who turned the other way
And left him in the wilderness
To face the day
Running for the money
Running for the fame
Lost where he was going
And forgot his name
He wandered through the desert
Where the land lay in waste
He was guided by the blinding sun
Which burned his face
So he took to the mountains
Where the air was fresh and clear
And the cold wind chilled his body
And his death was near
Running for the money
Running for the fame
Lost where he was going
And forgot his name
So the traveller came home again
An old and feeble man
There was no one there to greet him
Everyone had gone
No one left to listen
No one left to hear
And everything had turned to dust
And the earth was bare
Running for the money
Running for the fame
Lost where he was going
And forgot his name
Running for the money
Running for the fame
Lost where he was going
And forgot his name