small pebbles the heart shaped stone's many times picked-up and thrown, the tickets to this journey is all he has owned journey man always keeps a scarf, he needs familiar smell the torrents he choses are nothing more, but easy ways to hell soo damp the rooms along, the no-sun side of slopes gallop the misty wind swirls the only signs of hopes mighty the night the no dreams stars, more disguising then will destined no-where but knows his ways, un-decided his last still wake up and brush ur teeth and dress another dream, it was .. some more challanges some more threats every day the journeyman sells some life, to fetch some more breaths then come the evening, walking back home, along the river and mapples picks up and throws the heart shaped stones the smooth soft pebbles