and he still wanders on
 from days long since gone
 and he still wanders on

 through the dark at the endless hills
 through the grey mists of dawn
 through the dreams of faded history
 a sprit of ancient days is still travelling on......

 Behold his face in the twillight hours
 a story that's his to tell
 of a word given blindly, and honor that binds
 of a home long lost in the shades of time

 distance forgotten, a dreamlike face
 painted on the insides of his eyes
 he who had stared into the eye of the cyclops
 he who had conquered the fortress of dawn

 once enthroned this king of the slain
 now betrothed to the starlight above
 a silent seeker adrift in the mists
 the wanderer's specrte will never reach illeas......

 and he still wanders on
 from days long since gone
 and he still wanders on

 a dream that is not his own
 leads him through times unknown
 and he still wanders on

 through the dark the ocean seems endless
 navigator under the stars alone
 leathery skin, his hair's been bleached by the sun
 he who had been king in another life

 "I might have had a son, but what was his name?
 Have I laid with my wife, was she beautiful?
 Did this weary head once wear a crown?

 On my Island home, mountains so high
 did they pierce the clouds overhead?
 Who am I? Who is she? Why am I lost?

 a sleepwalking mind in the arms of poseidon
 forever lost on the dancing waves
 longing for summer's days upon
 the shores of distant illeas

 as the ages come and go the wanderer does not return
 and the silence still remains, the wanderer does not return
 and she weaves, awaits her man, but the wanderer does not return

 and he still wanders on
 from days long since gone
 and he still wanders on

 and still he's lost alone
 seeking the way back home
 and he still wanders on

 and he still wanders on
 from days long since gone
 and he still wanders on....