She's just a wonderer in this strange land
Strolling along this white sand
Watching the gray gulls wheel and soar
And peek into the driftwood's core.
No home has she, no nice warm place to rest
Even the pigeons have a homing nest
She gathers up shells from off the shore
And walks until her feet are sore.
She rides the rails from east to west
But no home has she to stay and rest
She gazes in the windows as she passes by
The love and contentment she sees makes her cry.
At Christmas the windows she sees so bright
She stops and dreams in their soft light
She longs for a place to call her own
As she tramps her lonely way alone.
She'll ride the rails and see the scenes
Sleep beneath the spreading branches green
She'll meet the people, black, white and brown
But she'll never remain in any town.