| There’s a kind of a restless feeling and it pulls me from within,
|
| it sets my senses reeling and my wheels begin to spin.
|
| In the quietude of winter you can hear the wild geese cry
|
| and I will always love that sound until the day I die.
|
| There’s a plain and a simple answer to each and every quest
|
| from every quiet dance who might be a special guest.
|
| In a movie made for TV or a late night interview,
|
| you might even find them on the Young and the Restless too.
|
| Do you get that restless feeling when you hear a whistle blast
|
| like an echo from the past of an old engine flying down a road that’s ironcast?
|
| The lake is blue, the sky is gray, the leaves have turned to gold.
|
| The wild goose will be on her way, the weather’s much too cold.
|
| When the muskie and the old trout too have all gone down to rest,
|
| we will be returning to the things that we love best.
|
| Do you get that restless yearning when you think about your dad
|
| and the scrimshaw that he had of an old schooner roving neath a sky that’s
|
| ironclad?
|
| There’s a kind of a restless feeling and it catches you off guard
|
| as we gaze off at the distance through the trees in my back yard.
|
| I can feel that restless yearning of those geese as off they roam
|
| then trade that for a warm bed and a place I can call home.
|
| Will you get that restless yearning when you hear the wicked blast
|
| of a spectre from the past of a cold diesel rolling down a road that’s built to
|
| last?
|
| Still I get that restless feeling when I hear a whistle blast,
|
| see an image from the past of an old schooner flying down a sky that’s overcast. |