"Where Are You Going"

He asked where are you going
and I said anywhere.
The destination doesn't matter
as I'm already there.

Can you look into the sunset
and say this is where I'll die.
Or do you talk through the windmills
in words that are just lies.

Feel this in your thinking
as you decide which way to go
It doesn't matter where you're going
and you may never know.

Any plans are only sawdust
that can scatter on the wind
It doesn't matter where you're going
It doesn't matter where you've been.

In your life there's just this moment
and can you say here I'll die
or will the past come back to fright you
when you take your time to fly.


Written (mostly) after visiting Bussana Vecchia