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Swerwer

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Die teerheid van 'n vreemdeling
Is onverwags, maar goed
Wie jy op reis mag raakloop
Word dikwels na, soos bloed
Maar ondanks elk' gebaar
Wat dit laat voel of hul behoort
Bly jy tog maar net  'n vreemdeling
Het jy steeds die laaste woord

KOOR

Hou dus vir my die stoeplig aan
Laat 'n kers op die tafel brand
'n Lantern teen die venster
Vir die terugkeer na my land
Gee my 'n baken in die donker
'n Talisman of vuur
Wat hoog brand in die donker
Vir my om heen te stuur

Op reis deur verre lande
Is daar dié wat jy ontmoet
Wat iets in jou kom aanraak
Hul maak die dae terstond weer soet

Hul besweer die diep verlange
Wat jy as swerwer soms ervaar
Maar dit als gebeur ten dele
Want om te reis is altyd swaar

KOOR

The tenderness of a stranger
is unexpected, but good
Who you may encounter on your travels
often becomes close, like blood
Yet despite each gesture
That makes it feel like they belong
you still remain just a stranger
Do you still have the last word

CHORUS

So keep the porch light on for me
Let a candle burn at the table
A lantern by the window
For the return to my country
Give me a beacon in the dark
A good-luck charm of fire
That burns high in the dark
For me to steer towards

Traveling through far flung countries
There are those who you meet
Coming to touch something within you
They make the days present sweet again

They soothe the deep longing
That you sometimes experience as a traveler
But this all happens in part
Because traveling is always difficult

CHORUS