He Is As Restless

He is as restless as the ever babbling rill That flows to the river from the field by the hill On it's way to the ocean many miles away A journey that ends at the saltwater bay But between him and the rill the comparison ends there For his journey through life it could end anywhere Since he left his home-place when his hair was dark brown He has driven through many a village and town Six months in the one place for him a long stay And though the years have left him looking older and gray He does not know himself where his last remains will lay And he will travel on till his last night and day The bug of the wander in him till he die Since that is a fact and fact does never lie.