Up from the street and down from the hill,
The road alone is a bitter pill.
To see a house with a light inside,
It warms the heart, it turns the tide.
Out in the yard, a figure I see:
A shadow, a gardner, there next to a tree.
I didn't recognize the clothes he wore,
But I knew I'd seen that face before.
Dressed in a much outdated style,
A tall man stands with a distance smile.
I'd heard his voice when I was young.
I remembered the words to the songs he'd sung.
I see you today. I've heard you before,
But didn't you die back in '74?
Oh, can you tell me?
You've been on my mind.
Oh, did you travel?
And what did you find?
I don't think much of the questions you ask.
My life now bound by a different task.
I care for the trees and when clouds roll by,
I raise my broom and sweep the sky.
But what about the songs you used to sing?
And the people you touched, do they mean a thing?
Oh, can you tell me?
You've been on my mind.
Oh, I can tell you,
They were so unkind.
Take in this garden and feel the sun.
I tend it from morning 'til day is done.
So, I looked out to admire the trees and the lawn,
But when I turned back, the man was gone.
And in his place, standing next to me
Was a fragile, sappling apple tree.
Oh, can you tell me?
You've been on my mind.
Oh, I could tell you
Of all you left behind.
Up the street and down the hill,
As I wander along, I think of him still.
His haunting voice, his timeless style,
A walking companion for mile upon mile.