Last night as I slept I dreamed I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
When questioned on his views on the crux of life's philosophies
He had but these few clear and simple words to say
I am going, I am going, Any which way the wind may be blowing
Oh the words that he spoke, seemed the wisest of philosophies
There's nothing ever gained by a wet thing called a tear