From the recording Kicking the Stone Home

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Kicking the Stone Home - by Sam Baardman

I am looking at the doorway, trying to think of what to take
I've been waiting here for hours, if I don't leave I'm gonna break
A long road is waiting, and somewhere some small stone
When the morning rolls in grey, you know, I'll be kicking the stone home

There's a boat out on the ocean, there's a train out on the track
There's a car out on the highway, and every one of them's coming back
No one knows what's waiting, it's just time and time alone
Until that final bend, you know, we're just kicking the stone home

But if all my life's a circle, how did I lose my way?
In every start there is an ending, in every joy there is some pain

Now the mother of my father, she was ninety-five or more
And some days I had to wonder, just what she was waiting for
Can't say that she lived peaceful, she always bore a heavy load
But right until the end she was kicking the stone along the road