When I lose sight of the Way
When I wander away
Call me to return and pray
You are good, good, good
June, warm with a cool breeze, high noon
Alone, thousands of miles from home
A road-less-traveled showing;
Wheat growing, Spirit flowing
Slow-walking, no talking,
Bending and ascending to Francis
When I lose sight of the Way
When I wander away
Remind me of Assisi and
Life is not about me
You are good, good, good
