You have often told me stories about the way You lived the life of a drifter, waiting for the day When I'd take your hand and sing you songs, then maybe you would say "Come lay with me and love me" - and maybe you would stay.
But you feel you're growing older, And the songs that I have sung echo in the distance Like the sound of a windmill going round. I guess you'll always be a soldier of fortune.
Many times you've been a traveler, you looked for something new. In days of old when nights were cold I've been there without you, But those days I thought my eyes had seen you standing near. Though blindness is confusing - it shows that you're not here.
Now you feel you're growing older, And the songs that I have sung echo in the distance Like the sound of a windmill going round. I guess you'll always be a soldier of fortune.
Yes, I can hear the sound of a windmill going round. I guess you'll always be a soldier of fortune.