On my way No vestige of her I press on I chanced upon an old man Sitting with his back to me And there In his hand The yellow ribbon from her hair Better years have passed The way's been hard he turned
And then he said to me The Watcher in the sky Holds her in his hands In his hands Her spirit wind passed by And I could hear her tears on the wind And feel her pain
How many moons? My people tracked this sacred ground And when I'm still I can hear the owl As she whispers out the secrets of the wind One true spirit speaking to my soul
The Watcher in the sky Takes her by the hand By the hand Her spirit wind passed by And I can see her weep by a stream She still draws breath
