Seaforth Mackenzie

Seaforth Mackenzie rode his bike into the night, He found himself a man among the trees, Trading the warmth of day to search for something more, Under the moon beneath the leaves. And are we moving anywhere at all? Craddled by the comfort of the cold floor, The open road that stretches by the wayside fire. Wayfaring strangers gave the saftey of a bed, To find their rest upon the breeze. They put their trust in he who opened up the door, Found hope wherever they may be. Are we moving anywhere at all? Craddled by the comfort in the cold floor. And the open rode, it streches by the wayside fire. Oh oh ohh ohhh Eh eh ehhhh Oh oh ohhh Heyyyyyy, heyyyyyy, heyyyyy x4 Seaforth Mackenzie rode his bike into the night, He found himself a man among the trees.