Verse 1:
So long I sought the way
Where all smile back and run out stage
To take all daily bread for me
And wait for medals to come to me

Such riches never thought would bring
Where future goes beyond this spring
Other hands or other glance
Each day a care for my own gain


Lights on the shadow of the scene
I can’t see Geneva in my mind
I’m just a passer-by
Young man in a mist of glossy glee
I can’t see Geneva in my mind


Verse 2:
Western town, ‘tis there I went
To seek all shades of gold and silver
Swaping price for promises
Of rest and purpose for another day

Waking up in mid-track
So many running down the line
Trot to run, don’t stumble
If you’re down you’ll wreap this day’s tyranny




Verse 3:
Tell me for what prize or what fame
You mirror life upon a star
Are we thus so different
Walking as a rich man or a tramp

Young man today you walk so proud
though take care to remember well
Don’t set your worth on what you have
Since like me you’re a passer-by

Lyrics: © Thomas Weeks