Last Journey

Pity those, of us who stay Are you sure, you had to go There you are but your hand is cold This cold, clings to my hand This is where, your journey began Which ends in the cold north Where you can wander without care I hear your voice in the air Your boots, are hard to fill Might as well, not even try Your voice is still in our ears Very long, time even though You are gone, we'll drink some good Whiskey in your memory Maybe we'll pour one for two I hear your voice in the air