Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry --Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.
Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry --Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.