Travellers

We're all trav'lers, aren't we?
We know not where we go;
But we have some vague idea,
From the sweeter winds that blow.

Perhaps we go forth hand in hand,
Or more likely, all alone,
And perhaps the sun shines brightly down,
On the fog 'tween us and home.

Nevertheless, we do our best,
We run, we walk, we crawl;
And if we stop, or turn around,
It's to heed a traveler's call.

And if paths cross, or part again,
or never come together,
Lets keep our heads held high and strong,
'Gainst hell and stormy weather.