No Matter Where You Go, There You Are

No Matter Where You Go, There You Are - Luka Bloom

I'll sing to you of a carpenter a Muslim man

He was forced to join an army he chose to leave his land

He was born in Northern Africa with the desert all around

He loved his innocent childhood in the bosom of a desert town

Mohamed left Algeria his family and his friends

Knowing he would never see his loved ones ever again

You must go follow your star

No matter where you go there you are

No matter where you go there are you

So don't let go of what you know to be true

Mohamed went to Amsterdam to Paris and to Rome

Nowhere in these cities did Mohamed feel at home

He'd walk the streets into the night thrown-out wood to find

Making wooden boxes occupied his mind

Little wooden boxes in a line on Mohamed's stand

Bringing food and shelter to a Muslim man

You must go follow your star

No matter where you go there you are

No matter where you go there are you

So don't let go of what you know to be true

One summer's day in Paris he heard a haunting sound

Of a lonesome Irish fiddle he let his tools fall down

Looking up he could not see the man whose music filled this place

But he knew his heart was breaking and the tears rolled down his face

Mohamed walked until he saw the man with a fiddle to his chin

He stood and let the music glow underneath his skin

He felt longing for Algeria and loving for this song

How the music of a stranger helps the dreamer move along

And the carpenter and the fiddler became the best of friends

And Mohamed lives in Galway where the music never ends

You must go follow your star

No matter where you go there you are

No matter where you go there are you

So don't let go of what you know to be true

By the Claddagh in the evening you might see this southern man

Selling boxes toys and fiddles made with Muslim hand

Don't you feel no pity nor think he is alone

For the music in his spirit is his shelter and his home

Mohamed's fire ignited with the ancient jigs and reels

He sometimes chants in Arabic across the Galway fields

His prayers go to Moher out to the Atlantic sea

And echo to Algeria to the land he had to flee

You must go follow your star

No matter where you go there you are

No matter where you go there are you

So don't let go of what you know to be true

There's a woman in Algeria she looks across the sand

And hears a loved one's prayer from the distant land