There was a boy who lived alone in a stone house atop the hill
No one knows from where he came and why he is always still
He climbs the hills, and talks with stones, with plants, with birds and trees
With lots of love Nature responds hugs him with her breeze
His feet on ground but mind with birds looking for bright blue sky
His banjo knows all his thoughts, all his joy and cry
There was a boy who lived alone in a stone house atop the hill
No one knows from where he came and why he is always still
Many times he healed sad hearts, made people feel jolly and free
All of that just with his song, his smile or simple cup of tea
When no one's there he will play his banjo to dwarfs and bees
Where ever he goes he spread love and joy, giving always his whole
That's just a way how his mom taught and fate of his old Gypsy soul.
There was a boy who lived alone in a stone house atop the hill
No one knows from where he came and why he is always still
He will go one day across that hill all of his dreams to fulfill.
In fairs and pubs people will speak about the boy who was always still
Who used to live atop the hill in a house between now and dreams.
