Sunday morning I open my eyes, put on my clothes 
 And go outside,

 Seven miles walking, fast, seven miles walking, people

 The world knows me, they wave as they drive on by, 
 Riding their bikes,

 They ride on by waving or nodding as to them I am the 
 Walking man.

 Westward walking then back to the East, my feet are 
 Moving always,

 Seven miles walking, older but faster, I journey with 
 Her in my head.

 I watch as the clouds move and change, the wind chases 
 The hills,

 Leaves are raining from the trees, Fall Is In our day, 
 Winter's on its way.

 People walk together holding hands, smiling and talking 
 About nothing,

 They step aside so that I may race on by, I receive a 
 Hello and a look.

 See what these eyes see as I journey across what I've 
 Never seen,

 I am known, I am friends' with the streets, they know 
 When I am there.

       Keith Garrett

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