He was forced to join an army, he chose to leave his land
He was born in Northern Africa, with the desert all around
He loved his innocent childhood in the bosom of a desert town
Mohamed left Algeria, his family and his friends
Knowing he would never see his loved ones ever again
You must go, follow your star
No matter where you go, there you are
No matter where you go, there are you
So don't let go of what you know to be true
Mohamed went to Amsterdam, to Paris and to Rome
Nowhere in these cities did Mohamed feel at home
He'd walk the streets into the night, thrown-out wood to find
Making wooden boxes occupied his mind
Little wooden boxes in a line on Mohamed's stand
Bringing food and shelter to a Muslim man
You must go, follow your star
No matter where you go, there you are
No matter where you go, there are you
So don't let go of what you know to be true
One summer's day in Paris, he heard a haunting sound
Of a lonesome Irish fiddle, he let his tools fall down
Looking up he could not see the man, whose music filled this place
But he knew his heart was breaking, and the tears rolled down his face
Mohamed walked until he saw the man, with a fiddle to his chin
He stood and let the music glow, underneath his skin
He felt longing for Algeria, and loving for this song
How the music of a stranger helps the dreamer move along
The carpenter and the fiddler became the best of friends
And Mohamed lives in Galway, where the music never ends
You must go, follow your star
No matter where you go, there you are
No matter where you go, there are you
So don't let go of what you know to be true
By the Claddagh in the evening, you might see this southern man
Selling boxes, toys and fiddles, made with Muslim hand
Don't you feel no pity, nor think he is alone
For the music in his spirit, is his shelter and his home
Mohamed's fire ignited with the ancient jigs and reels
He sometimes chants in Arabic across the Galway fields
His prayers go to Moher, out to the Atlantic sea
And echo to Algeria to the land he had to flee
You must go, follow your star
No matter where you go, there you are
No matter where you go, there are you
So don't let go of what you know to be true
There's a woman in Algeria, she looks across the sand
And hears a loved one's prayer from the distant land...
I'll sing to you of a carpenter, a Muslim man He was forced to join an army, he chose to leave his land He was born in Northern Africa, with the desert all around He loved his innocent childhood in the bosom of a desert town Mohamed left Algeria, his family and his friends Knowing he would never see his loved ones ever again You must go, follow your star No matter where you go, there you are No matter where you go, there are you So don't let go of what you know to be true Mohamed went to Amsterdam, to Paris and to Rome Nowhere in these cities did Mohamed feel at home He'd walk the streets into the night, thrown-out wood to find Making wooden boxes occupied his mind Little wooden boxes in a line on Mohamed's stand Bringing food and shelter to a Muslim man You must go, follow your star No matter where you go, there you are No matter where you go, there are you So don't let go of what you know to be true One summer's day in Paris, he heard a haunting sound Of a lonesome Irish fiddle, he let his tools fall down Looking up he could not see the man, whose music filled this place But he knew his heart was breaking, and the tears rolled down his face Mohamed walked until he saw the man, with a fiddle to his chin He stood and let the music glow, underneath his skin He felt longing for Algeria, and loving for this song How the music of a stranger helps the dreamer move along The carpenter and the fiddler became the best of friends And Mohamed lives in Galway, where the music never ends You must go, follow your star No matter where you go, there you are No matter where you go, there are you So don't let go of what you know to be true By the Claddagh in the evening, you might see this southern man Selling boxes, toys and fiddles, made with Muslim hand Don't you feel no pity, nor think he is alone For the music in his spirit, is his shelter and his home Mohamed's fire ignited with the ancient jigs and reels He sometimes chants in Arabic across the Galway fields His prayers go to Moher, out to the Atlantic sea And echo to Algeria to the land he had to flee You must go, follow your star No matter where you go, there you are No matter where you go, there are you So don't let go of what you know to be true There's a woman in Algeria, she looks across the sand And hears a loved one's prayer from the distant land... Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/l/luka_bloom/no_matter_where_you_go_there_you_are.html
