pilot of the storm who leaves no trace
like thoughts inside a dream
who heed the path that led me to that place
yellow desert screen
my shangri-la beneath the summer moon
i will return again
sure as the dust that floats high in june
when movin´ through kashmir
oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails
across the sea of years
with no provision but an open face
´long the straits of fear
wha-oh, wha-oh, yeah
whoa-hoh, whoa-hoh, ohh-oh-oh-hooooh
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