I might go to Spain Sleep out with the dogs Find some empty castle Put my jacket on a cross The mice are in the fields And the ghosts are in the towers Little wind I'm with you in the roadside flowers I might go to town And drink myself away Find some singing bird And try to step inside her cage I might go to waste And I might be a coward Little wind I'm with you in the roadside flowers I wish that I had stayed In that river house with you Pulled away the weeds And let the wild roses bloom But all the hanging plums Someday will go sour Little wind I'm with you in the roadside flowers Don't you want to fly with the highland birds Don't you want to plant in the Catalan dirt Maybe it's my fault Or maybe it's my power Little wind I'm with you in the roadside flowers