Where am I going? I don’t quite know
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow
Upon the hill where the pine-trees blow
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’ know
Where am I going? The clouds sail by
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky
Where am I going? The shadows pass
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass
If you were a cloud and sailed up there
You’d sail on water as blue as air
And you’d see me here in the fields and say:
“Doesn’t the sky look green today?”
Where am I going? The high rooks call:
“It’s awful fun to be born at all.”
Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:
"We do have beautiful things to do.”
If you were a bird and lived on high,
You’d lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You’d say to the wind when it took you away:
“That’s where I wanted to go today!”
Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’ know
