It's a wonder for the weary
Satchel heavy on my back
Carried like an old love letter
Worn and weathered
Under black Indian Ink
Stories of heartbreak in relief
For every star that shines my path
Across the salt-painted timber backs
She's standing soft and still
Bathed in technicolored spills
Himalayan, Himalayan Hills
Fields across the curves
A petal for every curse
That I've buried or appealed
They all seem so small
The wind is playing some soft melody La da da di
My soul is screaming out halleluiah
Can you hear me calling out halleluiah
Under black Indian ink
Stories of heartbreak in relief
For every star that shines my path
Across the salt-painted timber backs
She's standing soft and still
Bathed in technicolored spills
Himalayan, Himalayan Hills
Himalayan, Himalayan Hills
