I was a little boy without a voice without a land
I was a little boy without a friend in this crowd
I was a little boy who was born in quicksand

I waited for the dusk to speak with the wind
I removed the dust from the feather of my mind

I was a little boy without a voice without a sound
Many moons, many winters in silence in this crowd
I was a little boy who was born in quicksand

I waited for the dusk to speak with the wind
I removed the dust from the feather of my mind…

… I was a little boy without a voice without a land
And I speak with the wind of the feathers of my mind
I was a little boy without a friend in this crowd
Without a friend in this crowd, without a friend in this crowd…in silence
I go down