My bags are packed, I’m standing at the door
With nothing but a smile
I’m riding in the car, to leave it all behind
With no guitar, no microphone
I left it all and I’m going home

And it’s a last song for a tired soul
It’s a last stand for a hungry heart
I’ll take what you have given me, and pass it on
That you can’t be a king, if you’re born a vagabond

Don’t say I’m beautiful, unless you mean to paint me
Take back the times you said I’d win
I want something genuine
Not a smoke-screen flat lie, fake words or alibis
You can have all your polite goodbyes

And it’s a last song for a tired soul
It’s a last stand for a hungry heart
I’ll take what you have given me, and pass it on
That you can’t be a king, if you’re born a vaga-

Bond, you said I had to it, but you never believed
Break, you said that I would get, but it’s not that easy
Let go of my hand, I’ll take the path through the fire

And it’s a last song for a tired soul
It’s a last stand for a hungry heart
I’ll take what you have given me, and pass it on
That you can’t be a king, if you’re born a vagabond