There's a kind of a restless feeling and it pulls me from within,
it sets my senses reeling and my wheels begin to spin.
In the quietude of winter you can hear the wild geese cry
and I will always love that sound until the day I die.

There's a plain and a simple answer to each and every quest
from every quiet dance who might be a special guest.
In a movie made for TV or a late night interview,
you might even find them on the Young and the Restless too.

Do you get that restless feeling when you hear a whistle blast
like an echo from the past of an old engine flying down a road that's ironcast?
The lake is blue, the sky is gray, the leaves have turned to gold.
The wild goose will be on her way, the weather's much too cold.

When the muskie and the old trout too have all gone down to rest,
we will be returning to the things that we love best.
Do you get that restless yearning when you think about your dad
and the scrimshaw that he had of an old schooner roving neath a sky that's ironclad?

There's a kind of a restless feeling and it catches you off guard
as we gaze off at the distance through the trees in my back yard.
I can feel that restless yearning of those geese as off they roam
then trade that for a warm bed and a place I can call home.

Will you get that restless yearning when you hear the wicked blast
of a spectre from the past of a cold diesel rolling down a road that's built to last?
Still I get that restless feeling when I hear a whistle blast,
see an image from the past of an old schooner flying down a sky that's overcast.