Skylarks in the Breeze Songtext
von Johanna Iivanainen

He′ll be out there on the meadows
Growing flowers and weeds
On those distant, windy meadows
He'll be sowing the seeds

No riches, no splendour, no wonders of the sleep
Just truthful and tender and destined to believe
That the world is for the righteous, the wrong-doers and the thieves
And the smallest of the skylarks in the cold, autumn breeze

He′ll be out there on the alleys
With the homeless and the poor
He'll be dreaming of paradise
For the lost and the few


No riches, no splendour, no wonders of the sleep
Just truthful and tender and destined to believe
That the world is for the righteous, the wrong-doers and the thieves
And the smallest of the skylarks in the cold, autumn breeze

He'll be out there, he′s the hobo
He′s the man who agrees
With the world and all its creatures
All his skylarks in the breeze

No riches, no splendour, no wonders of the sleep
Just truthful and tender and destined to believe
That the world is for the righteous, the wrong-doers and the thieves
And the smallest of the skylarks in the cold, autumn breeze
In the cold, autumn breeze