I have often told you stories about the way. I lived the life of a drifter waiting for the day. When I'd take your hand and sing you songs. And may be you would say. Come lay with me and love me. And I would surely stay. But I feel I'm growing older. And the songs that I have sung. Echo in the distance. Like the sound. Of a windmill going round. Guess I'll always be. A soldier of fortune. Many times I've been a traveller. I looked for something new. In days of old when nights were cold. I wandered without you. Those days I thought my eyes. Had seen you standing near. Though blindness is confusing. It shows that you're not here. Now I feel I'm growing older. And the songs that I have sung. Echo in the distance. Like the sound. Of a windmill going round. Guess I'll always be. A soldier of fortune. Yes I can hear the sound. Of a windmill going round. I guess I'll always be. A soldier of fortune. I guess I'll always be. A soldier of fortune