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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Aephanemer
Aephanemer
Performer
Marion Bascoul
Marion Bascoul
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Martin Hamiche
Martin Hamiche
Songwriter
Marion Bascoul
Marion Bascoul
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Aephanemer
Aephanemer
Producer
Dan Swanö
Dan Swanö
Mixing Engineer
Mika Jussila
Mika Jussila
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Eh-ow
Always over hill and dale
A wanderer walking in strides
Restlessly hitting the trail
On the dark or the sunny side
Keeping on a steady pace
Without leaving any trace
Used to nature of progress
A lot of well directed steps
Haunting the fields and the woods
Rather than the doors of men
Attending to his own moods
As a wilderness denizen
With a feeling soon renewed
Kind of withered over time
Severed stem far from its roots
Though blooming during his climb
Creeping in, the cold
Invades his inner stronghold
The icy quiver running through his bones
Reminds him suddenly that he was gone
For way too long, too far, alone
Wherever this one is traveling
Welcomed, expected or despised
By fireside or chilling wind
Even-tempered, such is the wise
Not a beggar, to stay when spurned
He can't be drawn in any strife
And never got his fingers burned
By possessions, such his life
Good-natured
Like the stray cat
A sense of gratitude
For his beloved independence
When done with society
He's taking a step back
Just goes off quietly
Somewhere by himself
Surveyor
Of human soul
Monarch of lands
That lies fallow
Honored of all that he must not do
Against his will
And rich with all that he can afford
To drop out of his hands
Most rewards
Are expensively sold
For attendance
Curtsies and praise
Most properties
Are not worth this pile of gold
Gauged in time
Measured in precious days
Growing, the annoyance
Abrades his inner balance
The many frictions disturbing his mind
Weaken his detachment, strengthen his view
To stay aloof from humankind
Wherever this one is traveling
Welcomed, expected or despised
By fireside or chilling wind
Even-tempered, such is the wise
Not a beggar, to stay when spurned
He can't be drawn in any strife
And never got his fingers burned
By possessions, such his life
Good-natured
Like the stray cat
A sense of gratitude
For his beloved independence
When done with society
He's taking a step back
Just goes off quietly
Somewhere by himself
Written by: Marion Bascoul, Martin Hamiche
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